Elysium
by circxe
Summary: [ACT III] "the world bleeds out in twilight. stars crash down into the ocean like a revolution from the heavens, scattering silver flames across the deep blue of your home." They spoke with sweet ambrosia on their lips and golden nectar on their tongues. A thousand arrows of deceit rained down from the heavens with cataclysmic force. War raged under the throne of wicked kings.
1. ATALANTA

**ACT III SCENE I  
ATALANTA**

* * *

 **THE** **COMPLETE BLANK SPACE** surrounding her was both restrictive and expansive at the same time. It played with her spatial awareness, making her think that the room stretched on forever all around her. Somehow, it reminded her of the Scorch; except for the stark difference that she was trapped with nowhere to go. Her mind buzzed with everything and nothing at once, neurons firing and tangling together at the same time to create a web of chaos.

Cassandra laughed out loud, not caring whether she looked insane.

She had no idea whether it was from hilarity, incredulity or shock. It could have been all of the above. There was one thing she was certain about though, that WICKED had lied again.

That was to be expected.

Minho attempted to poke her telepathically. She guessed that was what he was trying to do by the strange nagging sensation in her cerebral cortex. All those times back in the Glade when they had joked about his brain being broken made her want to laugh again. It had been fine all along and now they actually were speaking into each other's minds. She wasn't used to the feeling, like it was somehow taboo and forbidden.

" _What are you doing?_ " he finally asked.

" _Oh, you know, the usual,_ " she replied wryly. " _Trying to stay sane._ "

" _Where are you anyway?_ " She could feel his presence frowning.

" _I don't know. I'm on my own in a white padded cell._ "

" _Yeah, me too._ "

Everything that WICKED did made absolutely no sense to her despite the fact that they kept insisting that it was for the greater good. They had told them to listen, that they would understand once everything was all over. She didn't think any of this would ever be over, unless it resulted in her death, which meant a whole other matter.

" _How long has it been since we've been separated?_ " Cassandra asked.

" _No idea,_ " he replied. " _I just woke up in this place a couple hours ago and one of those slintheads told me to talk to you. I thought they were being crazy at first, but Brenda suddenly started talking in my head. It was pretty weird._ "

" _Brenda?_ " she frowned. Apparently, the girl had more secrets than she was letting on.

" _Teresa and Thomas send their regards too,_ " he told her drily. " _So I'm part of your mind gang now, huh? 'Bout time, sheesh._ "

Cassandra grinned at his attitude; she was glad that he was still able to act so nonchalant about their situation. It made her feel less anxious knowing that he wasn't going ballistic with their newfound predicament. She could feel Thomas and Teresa were somewhere nearby, but it was difficult to reach out to them. They were either too far from her, or their connection was being dampened again somehow.

She had absolutely no concept of time in that white-prisoned room. Neither she nor Minho knew exactly how many days had passed since they were all separated from the Berg. Teresa had clued him in briefly before she mysteriously vanished, and Thomas was in no better position than them.

Eventually, there was only one thing that kept her cognizant of the time she spent in there. Someone would slip food into her room through a small opening at the bottom of the door. It came three times a day, though irregularly as if they were doing it on purpose to confuse her brain.

Most of the time, they simply talked to each other until they slept.

She was already starting to yearn for physical contact by the third day when the door to her cell opened. The sound of the bolt turning in the lock had instantly woken her up from her light nap, and she was scrambling to her feet by the time the intruder stepped into the room.

It was Rat Man.

Cassandra scowled at the sight of his stupid face, though she didn't feel surprised at seeing him there. He gave her that same mendacious smile before lifting his hands up in the air as a sign of peace.

"How have you been, Cassandra?" he asked amicably with his strange almost lilting accent.

"Readying myself to kick your ass at the first opportunity," she smiled back in the same affected tone.

He chuckled. "Now, now, there's no need for those theatrics."

"You didn't come to see me to have small talk," she snapped. "What do you want now?"

"Always so forthright," he said. "We thought you might like to see someone."

Her senses perked up at his statement and she looked towards the door, trying to see if she could gain a hint to what he might mean. She hated how he was still able to manipulate her, but there was no way she was going to pass up an opportunity to see Minho again.

The boy was still sleeping, his presence a kind of soft static at the back of her brain.

"Fine," she said at last.

Rat Man's expression grew smug before he turned around and presumably led the way out. Two armed guards were waiting in the hallway outside as she stepped through the door. Turning, the man took a step to the room right next to hers and opened it with his keycard. He peered inside while Cassandra tried not to shove him out of the way to have a look for herself.

"Follow me," Rat Man ordered at whoever it was.

"No hugs and kisses?" a familiar voice called out. "I've missed your ugly face."

She immediately broke out into a wide grin the moment he walked out to join them. Minho took a step back in surprise as she practically flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle. He recognised her in the next second, hugging her back fiercely at their small reunion.

"Hey, Cassie," he greeted affectionately. It felt good to hear his voice in person.

She laughed happily as she looked up at him before Rat Man cleared his throat with a disgruntled expression. They stepped away from each other with a small glare in his direction.

"Enough of that," he said sourly. "Now follow me or you'll be fired upon."

" _What a load of sunshine he is,_ " Minho commented drily.

" _Tell me about it._ "

At least now she knew what the armed guards were for.

Without so much as another word, they started to march the both of them down the familiar corridors of the WICKED compound. She could remember walking down the path for the brief few years before she was sent into the Maze with the others. Her hand brushed against Minho's next to her and their fingers automatically curled around each other.

Cassandra could feel her heart beating nervously inside her chest, trying to find some kind of security to ease the trepidation she felt. She could put on a brave face if she wanted to, but she was ultimately afraid of what WICKED could possibly do to them. It didn't seem like they would spare any quarter to get what they wanted.

After what seemed like a long while, Rat Man stopped in the middle of a hall with rows of numbered doors on both sides.

"Minho is in room number eight," he announced. "Cassandra is in room number seven."

They exchanged glances with each other before crossing their arms and scoffing at the man. "Oh, really?" Minho asked. "And what are we supposed to do in there?"

"A simple test," the Rat Man answered. "Nothing like the Trials before, I assure you. This will probably be the easiest of all the tests we've created, and I think the shortest. You will be asked one question and one question only, and the answer will consist of exactly one word. Sound simple enough?"

Cassandra narrowed her eyes at him. "There must be a catch."

"You actually think we could ever trust you, shuckface?" Minho asked.

"Excuse me?" Rat Man raised an eyebrow at his choice of vocabulary.

Minho shook his head in annoyance. "I swear to God that if you do one more thing to Cassie or me, or our friends, I won't quit fighting until I'm dead."

A smirk spread across the man's face and Minho was outwardly bristling with anger. Cassandra felt apprehension take root; the man hadn't specifically said that this would be the only test they would have to take.

"I give you my word," he started in a placating manner. "That your response alone will dictate what happens. Everything from this point on is voluntary. The Trials are over."

"I never volunteered," Cassandra said quickly.

He regarded her with an almost venomous look. "Fine, you can leave. Although your participation would have greatly helped your friends."

"Bullcrap," she hissed.

She hated him so much; she could feel her body tremble with the ache for retribution. Rat Man nodded to the guards to take her away but she called for them to wait.

" _Cassie, what if he's really telling the truth?_ "

" _I'm afraid of that._ "

They looked at each other again, and she could see the grim determination in Minho's eyes.

"Fine, we'll do it," she huffed angrily.

"Excellent," the Rat man smiled and gestured towards the doors opposite each other. "Now if you're ready."

With a heavy sigh, Cassandra parted ways with Minho as they went to their designated rooms.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE :**

Hello and welcome back to Part III! Be prepared for everything :)

Also, I finished reading Fever Code aaahh! By the way, I may have mentioned before but this story is based on all the books especially The Maze Runner Files. If you've read the Files, you'll know exactly where I'm going in the next chapter!

I just want to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has read and reviewed the last two stories of this series. Thank you so so much, you really have no idea how much your comments mean to me. They literally put a smile on my face throughout the entire day, and it really motivates me to continue writing this story. I hope you'll continue to support this story and your reviews mean the entire world to me, no joke! I love you all so much kjandkjand


	2. CIRCE

**ACT III SCENE II  
CIRCE**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA** **OPENED THE DOOR** and stepped through, expecting to see technologically advanced torture machines inside. Instead, a single wooden chair set in the middle of a small beige room with brown-tiled flooring greeted her. It looked oddly quaint, especially with the whiteboard that hung on the opposite wall. Next to it was a slim brunette woman dressed in green scrubs and a white lab coat. She had an angular jaw that looked like it was made to cut glass, and stormy grey eyes with thin lips.

"Welcome," the woman said. "My name is Octavia. Please have a seat, facing me."

Cassandra eyed her warily as she hesitantly made her way towards the chair and gingerly sat down. She placed her hands in her lap with a rigid posture, eyes wide and alert. Nervous tension probably rolled off her in waves as she stared hard at the woman.

"Now please observe," Octavia said in a clipped, surgical voice.

She turned around and started to write with her index finger on the upper left corner of the board. A bright blue line trailed along the smooth white surface as she moved.

The first word written down was _Minho_.

Then slowly, a list started to take form.

 _Newt. Thomas._ _Teresa. Sonya. Frypan. Archie. Brenda._

Cassandra watched with growing apprehension as the woman wrote the names of her friends down. For whatever reason, it felt like she was about to witness an execution. She swallowed nervously as Octavia turned around to face her again.

"Do you confirm that you are aware of these eight individuals?" she asked.

"Yes," Cassandra responded curtly.

"Thank you," the woman blinked owlishly. "That was just a preliminary question. The actual Experience exercise will now begin."

A beetle blade scuttled across the ceiling to peek in on them, its red light beaming down intrusively. It had been a while since she saw one and she thought that it was odd that WICKED would use them within their own facility. The metal insect brought back memories of the Glade to the forefront of her mind and Cassandra shot it a glare before re-directing her attention back to Octavia.

"We are now ready to begin," she said in a clear voice. "As you've been told, I am going to ask you one question and one question only. Your response should be limited to one word. I will pose the question in ten seconds if you're ready."

Cassandra nodded once to show that she was, all the while inwardly cursing WICKED out in her mind. Exactly ten seconds passed before Octavia finally spoke again.

"Our doctors have determined that we need to dissect the brain of one of these subjects for a more in-depth study. We will allow you to choose the subject to be undergoing the surgery, if you do not choose then all of them will be used. Which person do you choose to sacrifice? That is your question."

Cassandra stared numbly back into the woman's cold steel grey eyes until she thought her mind would explode from the empty static. They couldn't possibly be telling the truth. There was no way they would harvest all her friends just because she refused to answer their stupid question.

"Would you like me to repeat the question?" Octavia asked.

"No."

She cast her eyes downwards, trying to think as fast as she could to see through WICKED's schemes. This had to be a trick.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked to stall for time.

"The people on this list have been used to their fullest extent, and the only value remaining is to study them physically. Your friend will have the honour of donating their life to the noblest cause ever known to mankind."

Disgust was the most prominent emotion on Cassandra's face as she looked back at the woman. There was not a single combination of words in the entire English language that she could possible use to describe how much she hated them. They were worse than monsters.

"Be thankful that the Psychs determined that this Trial would be beneficial. At least only one of the people you care about need to die."

That was the last straw. "One?" she seethed. "Only one person? And what about Nick? Alby? Lee? Winston? Chuck! Those are more than _one_ person!"

"Do you need more time to consider your options?" the woman ignored her outburst.

"Shuck this, I choose me," Cassandra glowered angrily.

"You are not part of the list."

"Do I look like I give a damn?! I'm not choosing anyone to die, unless it's me. My life, my terms," she said defiantly.

"You _must_ choose," Octavia insisted. "You don't have a choice."

Cassandra scoffed. "So much for volunteering."

"We need you to make a choice. We are willing to take whatever actions necessary to… encourage your volunteering."

"Oh, yeah?" she tilted her chin upwards.

"Choose a name."

"Cassandra."

"From the list."

"Cassandra, Subject C. The Tragedy. Formerly known as Choi Soyun."

Octavia took a step forwards. "I'll ask it a final time before taking further measures. Which of your friends will you sacrifice?"

"None of them."

The woman grabbed a baton from the inside of her coat and pressed the button on its side. Cassandra started in shock when a blue electrical surge buzzed through the tip of the weapon. She felt her heart accelerate, her body tensing and muscles contracting in anticipation. Octavia jabbed the baton into her side and she cried out sharply, twisting sideways in her chair.

"Which name do you choose?"

"Go to hell!" the girl spat.

She screamed when the woman touched the baton to her side again, at the exact same spot. Her nerves felt like they were aflame, every single neuron firing with sudden intensity to outreach her pain threshold. Cassandra fell to the cold tiled floor, gasping for breath as her shoulders twitched.

"Cassandra," the woman said in the same clinical tone. "Which of the names do you choose?"

"Mine," she said through gritted teeth.

Another shock sent her collapsing to the floor with a shriek as her arms gave out beneath her. She took deep gasping breaths in a vain effort to endure the rush of pain in her entire body.

"We can do this all day," Octavia told her. "We're not leaving and I won't stop until you give me an answer. All you have to do is to say one name. Just say it. Now. _Say it!_ "

Her voice suddenly raised in pitch and volume, sending a jolt of surprise through her system. Cassandra scrambled away as the woman took a step closer. She couldn't believe that they were doing this to her, but at the same time, she knew WICKED would do absolutely anything to get what they wanted. The end will always justify the means. They should hang that up as their slogan.

"Which name do you choose?"

Cassandra opened her mouth to tell the woman to shuck off when an intense pain washed over her. It started from the front of her brain and radiated out to every single neural fibre encased in her skull. She cried out and clutched her head, curling into herself against the wall before letting out a scream of pure agony.

She was vaguely aware of a commotion happening outside the room before the door burst open. Minho barrelled through the opening, anxious eyes searching for her before rushing across the room in an instant. He grabbed hold of her arms firmly and pulled her close as she started to sob.

"What did you do to her?!" he shouted furiously.

Octavia stared at them with widened eyes, surprise completely eminent on her face. She faltered, hand dropping back to her side, before shaking her head.

"What happened?" Janson looked between them in confusion.

"I was only following procedure when she started screaming," Octavia said.

"Cassie, you're okay." Minho smoothed her hair back in a comforting gesture. He held her crumpled face between his hands as tears continued to leak from her tightly shut eyes. "It's okay, I'm here."

"It hurts, it hurts so much," she cried, grabbing his shirt in a tight fist.

Her entire head felt like it was about to explode with pain, phosphenes dancing in her closed vision as her temples throbbed achingly. Then a feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time returned. Her eyes snapped open and she stared in shock at the flood of images streaming through her mind.

"No, no, no!" she started thrashing her arms in fear. "Stop it! Please, stop it!"

Octavia gasped. "She's having an episode."

"What the hell is happening?" Minho yelled at her.

"She can't be having an episode, we suppressed it," Janson frowned.

"There's no end," she started to ramble. "It's useless, there's no cure. They did it, they did it. This was their entire fault; they're trying to fix something that they never should have started! It's their fault we're sick! There's no cure for death!"

"Can't you help her?!" Minho shouted angrily as he held Cassandra's arms to stop her from clawing herself.

"There's noth-"

" _Helenus!"_ the girl screamed, over and over, before passing out against his chest.

A heavy silence filled the room as everyone stared at her in shock. Minho brushed her hair away, skin damp with perspiration, as his eyes darted across her face worriedly. She had gone deathly pale, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only indication that she was still alive. Then Janson stirred, turning slowly towards the beetle blade on the ceiling.

"Get Psych in here right now."


	3. EUROPA

**ACT III SCENE III  
EUROPA**

* * *

 **SHE KNEW THAT IT WAS A DREAM** , with residual memories underneath the surface of her consciousness bleeding out into the scene. Kane was teaching them history, which was a mandatory and hopelessly boring subject. Cassandra's eyelids drooped heavily, head nodding twice in the last three minutes. Newt sat beside her, glancing to the side with a large yawn. Guess she wasn't the only one who was not thoroughly enraptured by Kane's thrilling lecture.

Resuming her previous perch with her cheek leaning against the back of her hand, she let her eyes roam about the room. They met with the amused gaze of the boy opposite her on the left side of the room. He had a smirk on his face as he watched her resist the allure of sleep.

Cassandra knew it wasn't real because they were all in their late teens, not the prepubescent children they had been when they were taking the class. Minho tilted his head downwards slightly, his expression holding a mischievous spark wrapped in a shroud of mystery, like a Van Gogh painting that swirled with the wonders of the universe. Cassandra bit her lip as she stared back at him, longing and enticement mixed together like an euphoric drug that made her pupils dilate with intoxication.

The next thirty minutes before Kane released them were excruciating, her mind already wandering to places that were too intimate to even whisper aloud. Her body moved towards the door swiftly, throwing a quick goodbye to Newt over her shoulder who was lazily shuffling his notes into his folder. Cassandra made her way back to her dorm, her fingers only just turning the knob against the door when she was roughly pushed inside.

The door closed behind her back with a sharp snap, his lips crashing against hers with almost ruthless zeal. He tasted like the first fall of snow, crisp and fresh against her skin, chilling her to the bone with exhilaration. Minho ran his fingers through her hair, tangling and pulling on the roots as he kissed her. Reckless abandon filled their bones, leaving only the aftermath of pleasure in its wake.

He laid her against the sterile white sheets, intertwining his fingers through hers above her head as he traced his lips against her neck. She felt their breaths mingling, like they were both particles of the same pair with a single inseparable shared state. Her mind felt like it was falling into a deep abyss, a shrill scream resonating from somewhere deep inside her subconscious.

" _Cassie, wake up! Please wake up!_ "

Her breaths came out deep and ragged, adrenaline flowing through her veins like a corrosive peel. The soft caresses against her skin turned rough, angry, nails burrowing deep to draw blood. She could feel her lungs collapsing under their own weight; an obstruction in her chest desperately clawing it's way out.

" _CASSIE, WAKE UP! CASSIE!_ "

Cassandra drew in a sharp breath, eyes flying open to complete darkness and beads of sweat trickling down into her eyes. She blinked hard twice before looking around, stretching her arm out in front of her and finding only cool metal inches above her head. And her sides. She was confined all around in some kind of box.

 _No..._ she felt her breaths hitch again as she balled her fists against the lid. It was a morgue. "HELP! LET ME OUT!" she screamed. "LET ME OUT!"

Tears started to prick her eyes, sobs ravaging her chest as she choked on her words. Cassandra beat her fists against the smooth metallic surface, its echoes reverberating all around her. Claustrophobia and fear of being buried alive closed in on her like rabid wolves ready to pick apart at her insecurity. They couldn't just leave her there, she was still alive. She screamed in desperation, she could even taste its bitter notes on her tongue. Darkness had always crippled her with its irrationality, unknown demons lurking in its obscurities. But the worst thing was the silence.

Inside the box, she could hear everything all at once—her muscles contracting, her lungs expanding, the churning of her stomach, her bones creaking, eyelids flapping. She could even hear the minuscule charge of her receptors firing, blood rushing in and out of her heart. It was driving her insane, and she screamed to drown the sounds out. She screamed until her throat was sore, and she passed out from exhaustion. Only to wake up and scream again.

* * *

Hours passed, maybe even days, she had no idea. Her connection with Minho had been severed so there was nothing she could do but to wait. Then after another eternity, she heard a metallic click. It grew louder, several more clicks and whirring joining it, and a sliver of light appeared through a crack on her left. Cassandra jolted upwards immediately, straining against the heavy lid to push it open. She took in a big gulp of cool fresh air, taking comfort in the bright white light that now surrounded her. Hastily, she clambered over the edge and fell heavily on the freezing tiled floor. Her body shivered at the contact and the frigid temperature surrounding her. She hugged herself tightly and looked around in bewilderment.

The room was different than the padded cell she had woken up in before. The walls here were grey with a bluish tint and all around her were panels of glass. Instead of a bed in the middle of the room, the metal box she had fallen out of took up its place. To the right, on the other side of the glass barrier was another identical room. Her heart started beating erratically in her chest, hands trembling with nauseous realization.

It was the room they had locked her and Helenus in.

She would recognize the glass prison anywhere, and it sent another chill running up her spine. Looking around, there was a low table arranged next to the wall with a tablet resting on it and plugged into a socket. It was obviously waiting for her.

Sighing in frustration, Cassandra dragged her way towards the device and picked it up gingerly. It was touchscreen, and she surprised herself by knowing how to use it. She supposed it was just one of those things like mechanical memory. The screensaver of the WICKED logo faded to black before the home screen appeared. There were only two files showing on it- a word document and a video file. She chose to read the document first.

 **WICKED MEMORANDUM – PROJECT SILENCE**

 **Elite candidates have been selected from the possible sample, all of them possessing higher IQ and a propensity for curiosity. They are ideal in that they will be able to provide us with empirical data relating to the project and their interactions with each other's partners.**

 **GROUP A: THOMAS AND TERESA**

 **GROUP B: ARIS AND RACHEL**

 **GROUP C: HELENUS AND CASSANDRA**

 **UPDATE 1012.34.5**

 **HELENUS HAS BEEN REPLACED WITH SUBJECT A7 FOLLOWING HIS TERMINATION AS A VIABLE SUBJECT.**

Cassandra frowned, vaguely remembering what had happened to Helenus that led to his termination. It made her uncomfortable to think about it, somehow feeling that it related to her in some way. Had Rachel been right all this time? Was she the cause of Helenus' death? She reached up to flick across the screen and viewed the next page.

 **WICKED MEMORANDUM – PROJECT CERBERUS**

 **Data from case studies on Subjects C1 and C2 have found that the virus takes root in the prefrontal cortex, particularly the region for emotional attachment. Stimulation in this area would yield interesting results in virus pathway.**

 **ATTACHMENT VARIABLE: MINHO AND CASSANDRA**

 **BETRAYAL VARIABLE: THOMAS AND TERESA**

 **GRIEF VARIABLE: ARIS AND RACHEL**

She knew there had been a connection in the Trials they all went through during their time in the Scorch. The brief reports on the projects weren't sufficient enough to make much sense of their designs. It seemed that WICKED had been trying to find a way to map the virus' pathway. She dimly recalled Rat Man mentioning a blueprint; this must be what he was referring to. It started to make a little more sense to her, but she still couldn't shake away the fervent anger in her chest.

 **WICKED MEMORANDUM – PROJECT GENESIS**

 **Log 213:**

 **We have discovered a most extraordinary finding in one of the children that was brought into the facility. The virus has not spread across the Killzone like everyone else, healthy tissue has been diagnosed as clear from infection. It is remarkable; we now have a starting point for us to build a blueprint, and retrace the virus' pathway as it spreads across the Killzone. Preventive measures can first be taken before we find a full cure.**

 **Log 214:**

 **Another half-Immune was found today- a boy this time. He seems to have weak health, something to do with a genetic heart defect. Hoping that this will not affect results. C1 has started to show peculiar symptoms, possibly a result of increased neural activity caused by the virus crowding only one region of the Killzone. Will require close scrutiny of irregular behavior.**

The reports stopped there and Cassandra guessed that was the extent of what WICKED wanted her to know. She went back to the home screen and selected the video clips next. The first one showed a preview of the Homestead back in the Glade. The Keepers seemed to be having a meeting and Alby was standing in front of them.

" _We can't trust her," he said._

" _We know nothin' about her," Newt tried to reason. "Maybe the Creators sent her to help us. She remembers things, that ought to count for somethin'."_

" _I agree with Newt," Clint spoke up from the back row. "We've been here for more than a year and nothing's changed until now."_

 _The rest of the boys started talking to each other until Alby sighed loudly. "I say we should put her in the Slammer and observe her for a while."_

" _What the shuck?" Gally crossed his arms. "She didn't even do anything other than tell us our names and pass out."_

" _She's not supposed to know our names," Alby snapped back. "She could be dangerous."_

 _Minho snorted from the side. "Yeah, she's_ _ **so**_ _dangerous."_

 _They started arguing amongst themselves about her, trying to decide whether she was their saviour or destroyer. Winston and a few others had agreed with Alby's suggestion to throw her in the Slammer but Newt kept protesting vehemently. Suddenly, the door opened with a curt snap and everyone stopped to look at the newcomer._

" _No one is going to do anything to the girl," Nick said, walking forwards to address the Council. He looked incredibly pale with large dark circles under his eyes. Cassandra remembered that he had recently gotten stung when she first arrived in the Maze. The boy must have still been recuperating._

" _Nick," Alby looked at him in surprise. "You should be resting, man."_

" _This is too important," he said with a thin voice, taking a seat in front of everyone. "I went through the Changing and I think I know who she is- vaguely."_

" _You do?" Frypan asked doubtfully._

" _She used to be one of us," he looked around at them. "That much I know. We can trust her."_

" _What if things are different now?" Winston asked._

" _I'm willing to take the risk," Nick answered. "Minho… I want you to talk to her."_

 _The Runner looked up at him with a hard look. "What?"_

" _She seems to remember you more than the rest of us," the leader said. "Get her to open up, find out if she knows anything else."_

 _Minho sighed loudly in exasperation. "Fine."_

" _There's also another thing, but we'll talk about that after she wakes up," he stood from his seat, and then headed towards the door. "She's the key, guys. I know it."_

The clip ended and Cassandra frowned as she stared at the screen. She had always known that the Council talked about her behind her back; there was always a lot more going on than she was privy about back in the Glade. Now that more of her memories had returned, she had a newfound appreciation for Nick that she regretted not having a lot earlier. It wasn't like she had any control over it, but it was rough knowing that he had tried so hard to look out for her and ended up dying because of it.

She swiped her finger across the screen and went on to the next clip, which was a lot shorter. The Keepers were standing around outside by the Deadheads, all of them staring off into the distance. The camera swerved briefly and she saw that they were watching Minho returning from the Maze and heading straight for the Homestead.

" _What's with the secret Gathering?" Newt asked._

" _I'm worried about something," Nick replied. "Minho doesn't really seem himself, does he?"_

" _What're you talkin' about?" the blonde frowned. "Looks completely fine to me."_

" _He keeps seeing the girl," Winston pointed out. "I noticed that too."_

" _Maybe he has a crush on her," Frypan snickered._

" _I just want to make sure," Nick told them. "That neither of them are under any kind of influence from the Creators. We should separate them, see how that goes."_

" _What?" Newt exclaimed. "That's buggin' ridiculous!"_

" _Think about it, Newt," he said. "Minho doesn't just skip mapping for anything. He knows his priorities. This doesn't seem right, I have a bad feeling."_

" _Is it because of your visions?"_

 _There was a brief pause before Nick finally answered. "Yeah…"_

 _Newt brought a hand to his face and rubbed it wearily. "I don't like it but… okay. How long are we supposed to keep 'em apart though?"_

" _As long as it takes."_

With a hard nod, Newt left without another word. The rest of the Keepers followed after him but Nick remained where he was. The beetle blade inched closer towards him, zooming down to his face. The clip went on for another long minute in silence and Cassandra thought that maybe it was a glitch. She was about to swipe the screen when Nick suddenly stirred.

" _I just want them to be safe. I owe them so much."_

The video ended and she went on to the next one quickly. She paused with a sudden thought as her finger hovered above the play button. Were these videos salvaged from the beetle blade she had killed back in the Glade? She had almost forgotten that she had brought the chip out of the Maze with her. Maybe WICKED had taken it when they had to stitch her leg up in the Scorch. Deciding that it would probably be of no use, she went on to the next clip.

It was dark for several seconds beforethere was a loud rustling. Light penetrated through the blackness of the screen and the beetle blade emerged from under a bush in the Deadheads. The first thing she saw was a boy hunched on the ground with his hand outstretched over a grave, palm flat against the wooden cross embedded in the dirt. He looked up and she saw that it was Nick, tears streaming down his face.

" _I'm so sorry, Stephen. I thought I could fix things, but I can't. They won't let me tell the others what I know but I can tell you. Dead men tell no tales, right?"_

He took a deep shuddering breath and Cassandra unconsciously leaned forwards. Stephen? She recalled the time when she had to clean the graves in the Deadheads with the Baggers in her first week. There had been a sprig of fresh wild flowers lying on the grave. Nick must have been really close to the boy.

" _I saw so many things during the Changing. The world ending, Cranks, a virus, my… my brother… I found out what happened to him. I have to get him back; they have him trapped in there. Cassandra and Minho, I knew them too. They saved me. I have to help them all, help us."_

He sniffled and let out another heavy sigh. _"I wish you were still here. I miss you."_

There was the sound of a twig snapping from nearby and Nick sat up straight, wiping his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Then she heard her own voice calling out to him.

" _Nick?"_

The video ended and Cassandra sat there, numbly staring at the tablet. She didn't know what to make of the new information fed to her but sadness squeezed her heart tightly in its grip. A moment later, the door to her room opened and she whirled around to look at who was visiting her now. If it was Rat Man, she was going to throw this thing at his shuck face.

But it wasn't Janson who entered the room. Cassandra gasped and stumbled backwards towards the box. She felt her body started to tremble as she remembered all the memories she had of the blonde woman in front of her. It was like staring at a ghost, she was the last person that Cassandra had expected to see ever again. Then perfectly lined red lips smiled back at her deceitfully.

Dr Clark.

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

 _check out the new story titled "mnemosyne" (previously tempest) where i'll be adding extra scenes from this story. the chapter titled "always" are additional memories that i didn't add into this chapter because of fever code spoilers. so if you've read the book, feel free to check it out! xx_


	4. LIBATION

**ACT III SCENE IV**  
 **LIBATION BEARERS**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA STARED BACK** in mute horror as the blonde woman looked down at her. The doctor looked exactly the same as she had remembered her from her vivid memories. Her hair seemed more platinum than before though, but her crystal blue eyes still held that mercilessly cruel glint in them. The girl grabbed hold of the edge of the box behind her and hauled herself up to her feet. She took several deep breaths in a vain attempt to control the blaze of anger in her chest that threatened to consume her better senses.

"What the hell do you want from me?" she hissed at the woman.

"Oh, you were always my favourite, Cassie," Clark told her mockingly.

"Don't call me that!" she snapped back. "Only Minho calls me that, so shut up!"

Clark simply chuckled at her and shook her head in amusement. Then her face smoothed back into an impenetrable mask as she considered Cassandra in front of her, malicious eyes taking in every bit of observable detail from the girl.

"So aren't you even a little bit curious?" she finally asked, glancing at the tablet that was still in Cassandra's hand.

"No," the girl responded in a hard voice.

"Really?" Clark raised a neatly trimmed eyebrow. "Not even about Nick? Helenus? I'm sure you must be curious about what happened to him."

"Rachel said he died, what else is there to say?" Cassandra questioned through gritted teeth.

"Then the Trials perhaps?" the woman went on irregardless. "Aren't you wondering whether what Nick had seen was right? That maybe the feelings between you and Minho were simply... _our_ doing?"

"That's a shucking lie and you're the biggest liar in the whole of WICKED!" Cassandra shot back but she could feel her entire body tremble furiously.

Clark chuckled again, red lips curving to the side. "Are you really sure about that? After finding out that you were meant to be the Attachment Variable to our Trials?"

"Just shut up."

"It's true. We did manipulate your feelings for each other."

Cassandra yelled out as she threw the tablet across the room. Clark swerved her body at an angle in order to avoid it and the electronic device shattered against the opposite wall. It fell to the cold tiled floor, lines webbing across its broken glass surface.

"I'm going to kill you, I swear to God!" she shouted, taking a step forwards to lunge at the woman.

Clark slipped a hand into her pocket and in the next moment, Cassandra felt an invisible force yank hard at her neck. She collapsed to the floor on her knees, her own hands flying towards her throat as she tried to crush her own windpipe. Choked grunts filled the room as she desperately tried to fight against herself, her heartbeat drumming wildly against her chest. Her face flushed with blood, heat immediately flooding her cheeks. The pain was excruciating and panic seared through her receptors as her eyes widened in fear. Then suddenly it stopped, and she let out a sharp gasp for air as she slumped forwards.

She looked up at Clark who held a small black remote control in her hand, a single button that controlled her very consciousness with a simple press of a finger. Her hands balled into tight fists at the realisation and her chest heaved with heated emotion.

"You... you _bitch_ ," she hissed venomously.

Clark simply laughed at her. "Did I hit a nerve earlier?"

"I remember the past. Minho and I cared for each other long before you found us. It's real," Cassandra asserted, glaring daggers coated with poison.

"Unfortunately, our technology is still limited and we can only alter so much," Clark admitted. "I have to say though, I thought your past affiliation with the boy would have hindered our results but I think it only ended up enhancing them. I suppose everything works out the way it's supposed to, don't you think so?"

"Yeah," Cassandra grounded out. "Like how I'm going to shucking kill you."

"Oh, Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra," Clark shook her head as she walked around the girl in a circle. "You really have no clue what's going on, do you? You poor, poor girl."

She wanted to murder the woman in a hundred and seventy different ways, then personally send her all the way down to hell where she belonged. Clark folded her arms again and stood in front of her with her hip cocked to the side. She was the embodiment of everything that WICKED stood for, and the focus of Cassandra's deep resentment for the organisation. They could tell her over and over again that everything they did was for the greater good, but she would never believe a single word of it. Especially not after everything that she and the others had gone through.

"Go to hell," she spat back.

Clark sighed in disappointment. "How could you be so ignorant? Very well, I suppose you just need a little reminder."

The blonde walked towards the door again and pressed her palm against the scanner on its side. Cassandra felt her mouth go dry with dread and anticipation as the opaque glass door opened with a gentle automatic swish. It remained open as Clark peered out into the corridor, her eyes as hard as glaciers.

"Come on, don't be shy," she waved a hand before feigning her trademark sickly sweet smile.

Soft footsteps started to approach the room, and Cassandra detected a hint of metal chains clinking against each other. She frowned in bewilderment- another prisoner of WICKED perhaps?

Clark moved to the side to allow the newcomer to walk in. It was a boy, around her age or younger. He wore the customary blank white uniform with the word 'WICKED' stitched in black bold font on the breast of his shirt. His feet were bare, the ankles linked together with cold metal chains along with his hands. The boy had thick brown hair on his head, almost shaggy if it was allowed to grow another inch or two. His eyes were blindfolded and a surgical mask obscured the rest of his face. Cassandra thought he looked sickly, as if he hadn't been able to swallow anything down for a few days.

He stood in front of the threshold, directly opposite her as Clark started to unchain him. What were the restraints even for? It seemed absolutely ridiculous, as if some half starved teenager could possibly do any harm when there were guards with launchers walking around the entire compound. The chains fell heavily to the cold tiled floor and the boy shuffled uneasily. When his hands were free, he immediately rubbed the chafed area around his thin wrists.

"I know it's been a while since you've seen each other..." Clark began. "But do try to reign in the enthusiasm."

She chuckled again as she reached up to remove the mask from the boy's face, then the blindfold. Cassandra felt her mouth drop open before she was even aware of it, shuddering high pitched cries falling from her lips like a torrential downpour. Hazy green eyes stared back at her, so deep in a mire of despair and agony that she could feel her heart breaking at the mere sight of them. Her hands shook desperately as she pressed them against her lips to mask the sobs that quivered from her throat. Tears tumbled down her cheeks to cloud her vision as the boy's expression changed to shock when he finally saw her.

This couldn't be real. It had to be a sick joke that WICKED was playing at.

"I hope you have a lovely reunion," Clark said as she stepped out of the room.

The door closed after her departure and it was just the two of them now. Cassandra pushed her trembling body off the floor, standing on her feet so that she could close the distance between them. She threw her arms around his neck and sobbed as she felt him reciprocate the same.

They had been comrades in arms, friends who suffered together through thick and thin.

WICKED always lied, and they had lied about him too.

"Helenus," she whispered. "I can't believe you're actually alive."

"Cassandra," he responded, and she could hear the smile in his voice. "I never thought I'd ever see you again. Or anyone."

Suddenly, he pushed her away and grabbed onto both her arms imperatively. His eyes shone with panic and fear that sent her heart thudding painfully against her chest. Cassandra knew instantly that she wasn't going to like what he was going to say next.

"I need to tell you everything," he breathed out quickly. "Before I lose it again."

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"I'm the walking dead, Cassandra," he told her. "I'm a Crank."

* * *

 **[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ]**

 _ooommmmggggg i can't believe it's been so long since i last updated this but i am back, i have not abandoned cassie and minho! to make up for it, i'm gonna concentrate on this now to make up for lost time aaahh...!_

 _but helenus guys! my poor smol child holy crap_

 _k one more intro chapter before we finally dig into the real events of the death cure book!_


	5. PROMETHEUS

**ACT III SCENE V  
PROMETHEUS BOUND**

* * *

 **DEVASTATION.** That was the most acute feeling that she could decipher from the colossal ball of emotions lodged in her chest. Cassandra stared back at him in shock, unable and unwilling to process the meaning behind his words. She could feel her entire body tremble as she fought to keep her breathing even, but that was the least of her worries. Helenus frowned at her silence, green eyes darting around her face scrutinisingly.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Me?" she asked in disbelief while swallowing thickly. "Helenus, you're... but it's been years since they brought you away. You're still talking to me like normal. How are you a Crank?"

He paused for a moment, seemingly trying to find the right words to explain it to her. Cassandra wasn't sure whether she was ready to find out the truth, but she knew there was no other way of going forward. She needed to know what was going on, what WICKED had been hiding from them.

"The both of us, we're half-immune," he started. "That means that the virus is still spreading in our brains, though at a slower rate than everyone else. Because of this, we get side effects."

She remembered learning about that from her memories. "Mine are pre-cognitive episodes."

"No." He shook his head. "We both have that. Your side effect is that you get moments of insanity."

Cassandra frowned in confusion before realisation dawned on her. All those times she had suffered in the Scorch, they were simply side-effects of the virus. But how? She couldn't understand it yet, she needed more information to piece together the puzzle.

"And yours?" she asked with bated breath.

"I have moments of lucidity."

Helenus watched her carefully as the gravity of his words sunk into her mind. She felt like she had just been stabbed in the gut. WICKED had named them after the prophetic Greek siblings for a reason. They were one of the same coin, opposing forces that shared a core aspect. Cassandra felt like she wanted to cry again from the weight of hopelessness that pressed down on them. Were their fates already pre-determined from the very beginning?

"So you..." Her voice shook and died in the cold air.

"I'm a special Crank," he told her with a sardonic smirk. "Sometimes, like now, I have moments of lucidity. I can think, I can see, I can feel. Then it goes away, and I'm a shell again."

"There must be something that we can do." She looked at him desperately. "What about the chip in our brains?"

"The chip already prolongs the time I spend lucid," he said. "But it's not a cure. There isn't a cure, Cassandra. They keep telling us that they're close to making one, but it's not true. They can't fix this, it's impossible."

"They're just deluded," she stated with finality.

Helenus nodded sombrely. "It's a shame. I know a lot of people were hoping that this would be the answer, but you and I are the only ones who can actually see it's not."

"I haven't had any visions about the Flare." She averted her gaze and shook her head. "But I never believed WICKED anyway."

"Then you're lucky..." he mumbled. "Ten years... fifty... a hundred... nothing changed."

She thought that Helenus was far more adept at predicting the future than she was. Then again, he did spend most of his days in a stupor of insanity; which was usually the price of foresight. Cassandra looked back at him with a sharp intake of breath. There was another thing that she had to tell him before it was too late.

"Your brother—" She grabbed his arm. "I think I figured out who it is."

His eyes lit up and he leaned forwards eagerly. "You did?" he whispered, barely able to contain his excitement.

Cassandra felt her heart fall into a deep chasm, more tears starting to prick her eyes as she bit her lip. "It was Nick. I'm sorry... but he didn't make it."

She could see Helenus visibly deflate, his narrow shoulders slumping downwards as his eyes flickered to the ground. He reminded her so much of Nick that it hurt to think that both brothers would suffer similar fates by the hand of WICKED.

"It was my fault," she blurted. "I made a prediction but he misinterpreted it. He got the wrong hole we were supposed to escape through, they—they cut him in half... there wasn't anything—"

"Hey, it's not your fault." Helenus reached out to comfort her as the floodgates reopened once more. Despair had never been a more intimate friend to her than at that very moment.

"It _is_ my fault." She started to sob. "Poor helpless Cassandra who could never control her visions. When they were experimenting on us, you tried to protect me and they punished you. It made you even more unstable. And Minho—they punished him too because of me. I'm always the cause, it's me!"

"You remember that much?" he asked gently, with compassion in his voice. "It's not because you're weak, Cassandra. You would do the exact same for us. We care about you too."

She sniffed and wiped away her tears with the back of her hand. It was true; she would swim through the rivers of the Underworld for them and deep down, she knew they would do it for her too. Minho wouldn't even think twice.

"Come with us," she told him. "Whatever happens, come with us."

"I can't..." he replied. "It's impossible."

"We'll make it work," she said firmly. "We'll find a way to—"

"I said I can't!" he snapped loudly.

Cassandra took a step back in surprise, eyes widening as she gaped back at him. Helenus' face had contorted into a mask of fury, lines etching his face maliciously. His green eyes glared straight at her with bloodlust, unseeing and hollow. It reminded her of Ben, and she staggered away from him.

"How many times do I have to tell you that it won't work?!" he roared, causing her to wince. "I'm a Crank, don't you understand that?!"

He lunged forwards at her and Cassandra screamed when he managed to grab hold of her arm. The room wasn't big enough to even allow her to keep him at arm's length. She struggled against his iron grip, nails digging into her skin as he growled with feral zeal.

"Helenus, let go!" she cried. "Helenus, stop it! You're still in there, I know you are! Stop hurting me!"

"Hurt you? All they ever did was hurt you," he started to ramble and she recognised the wild look in his eyes. "And they'll never stop, not until you're dead and gone. Until we're all dead and gone. They'll continue to haunt you, to chase you, to remind you of what you are."

Cassandra could hear her own breath quickening as she tried in vain to twist her way out of his grasp. In the blink of an eye, Helenus had changed into a different being altogether. He was no longer the soft spoken boy that she knew. She lashed out harshly at him, managing to push him away so that she could free herself.

"Help!" Cassandra yelled as she ran to the door, beating her fists against its surface.

"There is no end!" Helenus howled, grabbing hold of her once again and sending the both of them crashing to the floor. The cold tiles sent shivers rocking through her body as Cassandra slapped Helenus' hands from her face and hair.

"Helenus, stop it!" she cried in vain.

"We are lost children looking for lost gods," he said. "We look for heaven but are greeted with ruin, we seek safe harbour with malice. _To save one, you must sacrifice the other!_ "

"Okay," she breathed out. "I'm sorry!"

She brought her leg up and rammed her knee as hard as she could into his diaphragm. Immediately, Helenus let out a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him completely. It gave Cassandra a chance to kick him away and she lunged forwards to grab the computer tablet lying close by. She whirled around and quickly smashed the device into the side of Helenus' head twice. He finally crumpled to the side unconscious, blood leaking from the torn skin of his right temple.

Cassandra winced at the sight of it, dropping to her knees while breathing heavily from her exertions. Her stomach heaved but she forced herself to swallow down the discomfort. Helenus didn't deserve any of this.

"I'll get you out of here," she whispered as another tear trailed down her cheek. "I promise."

Suddenly, the wall beside her shifted like the roiling sea under a thunderstorm. It glimmered and undulated under the light, before dissipating before her very eyes. On the other side, another room opened up that looked completely identical to hers. She realised that they had been kept right next to each other all those years but still felt completely isolated the entire time.

And, knelt on the ground in front of her was Minho. His face was pinched with pain, fear and anger. He was like a pot overflowing with a different range of emotions, eyes darting between her and the unconscious boy.

"Cassie," he gasped out. "What the shuck just happened?"

WICKED had made him watch everything.

"I hardly know," she replied numbly.

* * *

 **[AUTHOR'S NOTE]**

 _guess who's back, back again_ — _it's me, i'm back yay! i've been pretty free lately and wrote a hella lot for this story so you can look forward to a stream of new chapters in the next couple of weeks! it's mostly following the book's storyline, and i added most of the dialogue so people know what's happening. because i honestly have no idea how tdc went down anymore and i'm gonna assume everybody else doesn't either lmao._

 _AND OH YES BEFORE I FORGET! POLL TIME!_

 **CHOOSE MINHO AND CASSIE'S OFFICIAL SHIP NAME RIGHT HERE!**

 **MINDRA?**

 **MICASSA?**

 **CASSIEHO?**

 **CASSINHO?**

 **MASSEROLE?**

 **OTHERS? (MINSIE? CASMIN? SASSY CASSEROLE?)**


	6. MYRMIDONS

**THE NEXT TWO WEEKS** passed by in a blur of boredom and apprehension. Cassandra and Minho conversed telepathically, refusing to speak out loud because they knew that they were still being watched. Surely, WICKED wouldn't be able to listen in on their thoughts as well. Cassandra could just imagine the notes they'd take; _the subjects are showing their rebellion by refusing to speak and_ _are_ _communicating solely through telepathy._ She scoffed inwardly. The both of them merely waited with hands clasped loosely together until they were let out of that glass prison.

" _So he was Nick's brother?_ " Minho asked.

" _Neither of them knew,_ " she replied. " _I only figured it out in the Scorch. They had the exact same eyes._ "

Cassandra glanced at him and saw the light frown on his brows. He had managed to get the gist of everything when she explained it to him previously, but it was still a lot to take in. Their problems seemed to only magnify each day and she couldn't stop remunerating on them. Seeing Helenus like that, completely losing himself to the virus, absolutely terrified her.

" _That woman,_ " Minho started. " _She must be the head honcho, right?_ "

" _Of the Psychs, I guess_ ," she responded.

" _I'm gonna remember her shuck face._ "

She couldn't help the small smirk that her lips automatically quirked into. " _I could never forget it,_ " she said.

" _When we find the others, we should break outta this place._ " Minho conspired with a thoughtful expression. " _I can steal one of those guns no problem. You think Thomas or Teresa could fly that thingamajig?_ "

" _Sure, it can't be that hard._ " She tried to suppress a grin by biting down on her bottom lip.

" _With Thomas' luck, we'd probably crash though._ "

Her shoulders trembled slightly as she held in her laugh, opting instead to focus it internally and sending it out to Minho in a stream of ' _hahahahahas_ '.

" _What are you doing?_ " he asked. " _Are you laughing through my head? Dude, stop, that's such a weird feeling!_ "

She couldn't hold it in anymore and finally broke the silence of the room with a peal of laughter. Minho smirked widely as she pressed her hands against her mouth and looked around furtively. She betted WICKED was happy to know that she hadn't lost her voice just yet. Then, as if lurking in wait, the door to the room swung open to reveal Rat Man in all his sleazy glory.

"Shucking hell!" Cassandra gasped out loud, a hand flying to her chest. "Why does it always have to be you?"

The man forced a tight smile in her direction. "I'm so happy to see that you're well," he said drily.

"I'd be doing better if I didn't have to see your shuck face," Minho responded sweetly.

Rat Man wiped the smile completely off his face and glared menacingly at the both of them. His presence didn't phase the two teenagers in the slightest and it seemed that he hated them more than they did him.

"If you're quite done," he started. "I suggest you tidy yourselves up before meeting your friends."

Cassandra and Minho visibly perked at the mention of their friends before exchanging glances with one another. It felt like forever since they had laid eyes on the other Gladers or even Group B. Rat Man then left them with some clean clothes before slamming the door shut behind him. In both adjoining rooms that they stayed in, there was a narrow shower stall wedged in a corner between the sink and bed.

They quickly rinsed themselves and changed, then waited for Rat Man to return. Not more than two minutes later, they were walking down the long pristine corridors of the facility again.

"What did you do to our friends?" Cassandra asked almost demandingly.

"As with the both of you, everyone had to undergo a test that's designed to give us the data we require," Rat Man answered.

"And did it involve beating anyone else up?" Minho questioned bitterly.

"Possibly."

The boy scoffed and scowled darkly at Rat Man's back. Cassandra reached over to touch Minho's arm in case his temper got the better of him. She knew he had gone through the initial variable as her, except that his question had been the reverse of hers. Instead of an electric baton to the side, he had been beaten up by the doctor in charge. They continued down the twisting interior, filled with lackadaisical pictures lining the walls in intervals. It was a poor attempt in masking the organisation's true sinister nature.

Finally, they arrived at a door and Rat Man pulled the handle to open it. Inside was a fairly spacious auditorium with rows of seats descending from the back. Most of the Gladers and Group B had already been gathered there waiting. Teresa and Newt were the firsts to greet them. The blue eyed girl threw her thin arms around Cassandra's neck and enveloped her in a tight hug which she returned.

"I'm so relieved that you're okay!" she exclaimed almost breathlessly. "I was cut off from everyone."

Cassandra knew that she meant the telepathy. Newt and Minho exchanged claps on the shoulders before Cassandra went over to give him a warm hug too. She was grinning from ear to ear as she looked at them. They were all clean and looked healthier than when they had been in the Scorch. A few more scars laced Newt's face though and he seemed to have a permanent frown on his face now. Teresa too seemed different, her cheeks looked more gaunt and despite the healthy glow in her skin she was much thinner than Cassandra remembered.

She wondered how she must look to them—like someone who had just gone through a war perhaps? She certainly felt it in her bones that she was now hardened. It was reflected in Minho's eyes too.

They went around the room to greet everyone else. Frypan. Aris. Sonya. Harriet. Eve. Archie. Cassandra noticed how Newt would linger near Sonya and she couldn't help feeling that there was a resemblance between them too. It was like how she felt when she thought about Nick and Helenus. Another prick of ache stabbed her heart when she remembered what they had all lost.

"Why are the two of you always together?" Frypan pointed out.

"It's 'cause we're inseparable, duh," Minho replied.

"You know they're always watching us, right?" Newt raised his eyebrows with a significant look.

Cassandra smacked the back of his head. "Seriously, get your brain out of the gutter."

He snickered back before grinning crookedly. "Well, at least the both of ya are still the same."

Were they though?

The door to the auditorium opened up again twenty minutes later and Rat Man stepped in. Trailing along behind him was the person they had all been waiting for to complete their reunion.

"Well, I've been shucked and gone to heaven!" Minho exclaimed. "It's Thomas!"

"Golden Boy!" Cassandra traipsed down the steps to the front of the auditorium and embraced him like a long lost brother. Minho and Newt were right behind her, clapping his back with boisterous greetings. Thomas couldn't stop grinning widely, his brown eyes roaming around their faces and the room until he stopped at Teresa. She had gotten up from her seat with them but moved forward at a slower and uncertain pace.

"Well, at least you didn't bloody roll over and die, Tommy." Newt was smiling broadly but his tone was gruff as he held tightly onto Thomas' hand.

"The mighty Gladers, back together again," Minho announced, throwing an arm over Cassandra's shoulders to lean on. "Good to see ya alive, shuck face—I've imagined you dead in about a hundred different ways. I bet you cried every night, missing me."

"You must have been so sad all on your lonesome. No one to kiss your cheek to sleep, aw," Cassandra teased.

"Yeah, I was so sad," Thomas responded before stepping forwards to Teresa. He raised a hand hesitantly before finally deciding to touch her arm. "Hey."

"Hey." She smiled back happily. "You okay?"

"I guess. Kind of a rough few weeks. Could—" He stopped himself short, looking at her inquisitively.

"I tried, Tom. Everyday I tried to talk to you. They cut us off, but I think it's all been worth it." She took his hand in hers, which set off an explosion of jabs from everyone around them. Cassandra clapped her hands enthusiastically and Minho laughed when Thomas pulled away quickly, his face flushed red.

"Awww," Minho said. "That's almost as sweet as the time she slammed the end of her spear into your shuck head."

Cassandra nudged him in the ribs but she couldn't help but laugh herself. Thomas obviously still cared about Teresa but what the girl had said—that it would be worth it, _that_ was worrying.

"True love indeed," Frypan exclaimed loudly. "I'd hate to see what happens when these two have their first real fight."

"Hey, what about us?" Cassandra turned to him, pointing at herself and Minho.

"Shuck-face, do you remember what happened to the kitchen back in the Glade?!" He narrowed his eyes in her direction.

"Oh, yeah." She forced a laugh. They had trashed it while throwing plates at each other once. She couldn't even remember what the reason for that argument was anymore. Frypan had to request a whole new set from WICKED.

Rat Man suddenly came striding down the aisle while clapping his hands as loudly as he could.

"Everybody take a seat. We have a few things to cover before we remove the Swipe," he announced.

A hush instantly overcame the group as everyone turned to stare at the man. Did she just hear that correctly? They wanted to remove the Swipe? That meant the thing that had been suppressing their memories the entire time. Rat Man moved towards the lectern at the front of the auditorium and gripped the edges tightly with another stilted smile.

"That's right, ladies and gents. You're about to get all your memories back. Every last one of them."

* * *

 **[AUTHOR'S NOTE]**

 _the mighty gladers *sniffs and wipes away tears* :') i love cassie and teresa's brotp tho, they are truly the broest of bros in this story. i have some things planned in the future that will hopefully put teresa in a much better light (because jdash decided to make everyone except frypan hate on teresa in tdc. i don't blame people hating on her because that's obviously what jdash wanted). so i'm going to place an opportunity (cassandra) that will show exactly how awesome teresa is because she is my bae. well, everyone is my bae. except janson. bye janson._

 _ship poll is still ongoing on chapter 5~ i'll let it run for a week!_

 _please leave a review!_


	7. AIGUPTIOI

**ACT III SCENE VII  
AIGUPTIOI**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA INHALED A SMALL BREATH** between her teeth before exchanging glances with her friends. Getting back her full memories was the farthest thing from her mind. In fact, she thought that the less she remembered the better. There was nothing good about the past or her life with WICKED. She was sure that if she did remember everything, her hatred for WICKED would just be cemented with everlasting certainty.

She stiffly went to sit down in the front row with Minho beside her, then Thomas, Newt and Teresa. Everyone seemed to have been taken aback by his previous announcement, eyes set staring owlishly to the front of the auditorium. Rat Man waited patiently for them to settle in place before starting his briefing.

"As you were informed in your one-on-ones," he began. "The Trials as you've known them are over." Cassandra would beg to differ. "Once your memories are restored, I think you'll believe me and we can move on. You've all been briefed on the Flare and the reasons for the Trials." His eyes flickered to Cassandra briefly. "We are extremely close to completing our blueprint of the killzone. The things we need—to further refine what we have—will be better served by your full cooperation and unaltered minds. So, congratulations."

"Shuck you!" Cassandra piped.

"I ought to come up there and break your shuck nose," Minho said with a calm voice but a glint of malice in his eyes. "I'm sick of you acting like everything is peachy—like more of half our friends didn't die."

"I'd love to see that rat nose smashed," Newt glowered from the other side.

Rat Man rolled his eyes and sighed. "First of all, each of you has been warned of the consequences should you try to harm me. And rest assured, you're all still being watched. Second, I'm sorry for those you've lost—but in the end it'll have been worth it." Those were the same words that Teresa had said earlier. "What concerns me, though, is that it seems that nothing I say is going to wake you people up to the stakes here. We're talking about the survival of the human race."

Minho took in a breath, as if he was going to say something, but Cassandra beat him to the punch instead. "You guys killed a bunch of humanity's best hope for survival, I bet you feel so good about yourselves," she said scathingly.

Rat Man laughed with a bitter tinge. "You just don't get it, do you?"

She tensed her body and made to stand but Minho quickly grabbed hold of her wrist to stop her. The man had no idea exactly how much she actually understood, or what she knew.

"Let's all just slim it," Thomas said evenly. "Let's hear him out."

Frypan spoke up just then. "Why should we trust you people to... what was it called? The Swipe? After everything you've done to us, to our friends—you want to remove the Swipe? I don't think so. I'd rather stay stupid about my past, thank you very kindly."

Cassandra had never been so proud of the Keeper of the Cooks than at that very moment. There was a newfound appreciation for her food-crazy friend.

"WICKED is good." Everyone turned to look at Teresa as she suddenly spoke. She looked back at them with adamance in her eyes. "Of all the things I could've written on my arm when I first woke up from my coma, I chose those three words. I can't stop thinking about it, and there has to be a reason for that. I say we just shut up and do as the man says. We can only understand this with our memories back."

"I agree!" Aris shouted from further back.

Arguments started to erupt around the room between the Gladers and Group B. The boys were against the procedure while the girls were very much up for it. Cassandra felt a prick of betrayal in her heart; Teresa surely couldn't mean that. Her friend had to know the things that they had made her suffer through. WICKED was _not_ good.

"Silence!" Rat Man roared, pounding his fist repeatedly on the lectern. "Look, no one is going to blame you for the mistrust you feel. You've been pushed to your physical limits, watched people die, experienced terror in its purest form. But I promise you, when all is said and done, none of you will look back—"

"What if we don't want to?" Frypan interrupted. "What if we don't want our memories back?"

Rat Man sighed tiredly. "Is it because you really have no interest in remembering, or is it because you don't trust us?"

"Oh, I can't imagine why we wouldn't trust you," Frypan replied with sarcasm, earning a couple of snickers.

"Don't you realise by now that if we wanted to do something to harm you, we'd just do it?" Rat Man shook his head. "If you don't want to remove the Swipe, don't do it. You can stand by and watch the others."

He stepped away from the lectern and moved towards the doors, pausing to look back at them over his shoulder.

"You really want to spend the rest of your lives having no memories of your parents?" he asked. "Your family and friends? You really want to lose the chance to hold on to at least a few good memories you may have had before all this began? Fine with me. But you may never have this opportunity again."

Cassandra stood up immediately, her hands clenched in tight fists by her sides. "I may remember my family and friends. I may have one or two happy memories with my parents. But the pain from watching how they died, how the world ended, the death and devastation. Is _that_ worth it? I wished I never did remember them. Because now all I remember when I think about my mother is how the virus made her bleed from every orifice of her body. All I think about is how my dad was ripped apart by Cranks to give us time to escape. I even had to kill my dog to put him out of his misery when a Crank tore him open for trying to protect me. Do I really want to remember the rest?"

"That's exactly why WICKED is looking for a cure," Teresa said coaxingly. "I'm sure all of us have had some kind of horror in our past from the Sun Flares and the Flare. If there's hope for fixing it—to fix the world—then shouldn't we take the chance?"

Cassandra turned to look at her sorrowfully. "There is no cure."

The resolve in Teresa's gaze wavered at her proclamation and Rat Man glared heatedly at her, but she had succeeded in planting the seed of doubt in everyone else's mind. The world—their past—was not worth remembering at all. As soon as Rat Man pushed the door open and stormed out of the auditorium, Thomas and Newt leaned in to them.

"There's no way we're doing this," Thomas whispered. "No way."

Minho squeezed his shoulder. "Amen. Even if I did trust those shanks, why would I want to remember? Cassie and I were together, I don't wanna remember the stuff she does. Sorry, Cassie. Look what it did to Ben and Alby too"

"Good decision," Cassandra responded. "And since we don't trust them, what's to stop them from implanting false memories?"

"Exactly," Newt grumbled. "We need to make a bloody move soon. When we do, I'm going to knock a few heads together to make myself feel better."

Thomas nodded. "Not too soon though—we need to look for our best chance."

Cassandra had managed to catch Teresa's eye and the girl looked worried. Even if Teresa did hope, or believe, that WICKED was good, Cassandra was sure that she at least cared enough about her friends to not let anything bad happen to them. They made their way towards the door and Thomas paused with his hand on the handle to listen on the others. Despite what Cassandra had warned them against, most of the teenagers still wanted to get their memories back. Maybe their curiosity was just too strong.

She knew that in her heart, she wanted to remember her father too. He was an army man, honourable and brave. Cassandra remembered how she and Minho had looked up to him as a role model. But what WICKED was offering them now, it can't be as simple as they say. Everything came at a price.

Rat Man was waiting on the other side before leading them all to a giant steel door that was completely airlocked. He swiped his card for access and they shuffled through a vestibule separating the operating theatre from the rest of the outside world. Beds lined the walls of the room on each side with odd contraptions suspended above them made of metal and tubes attached to masks. Cassandra thought they looked familiar, recalling a brief flash of the dormitory back in the Scorch and oddly enough, Brenda.

"This is how we're going to remove the Swipe from your brains." Rat Man gestured. "Don't worry, I know these devices look frightening, but the procedure won't hurt nearly as much as you think."

Frypan crossed his arms. "Nearly as much?" he repeated. "So it does hurt, is what you're really saying."

"Of course you'll experience minor discomfort—it is a surgery." Rat Man walked over to a large machine that seemed to be the control panel for the contraptions. "We'll be removing a small device from the part of your brain devoted to long-term memory. But it's not as bad as it might sound, I promise."

"Wait a second," Teresa called. "Is this going to take away whatever's inside there that lets you control us too? And what about..."

She trailed off, glancing momentarily at Thomas. Cassandra frowned, remembering Alby, Gally and the time Clark had managed to control her back in the room. Could WICKED control _all_ of them through the chips in their brains?

"Is everything going to be out of there?" Teresa pressed on. "Everything?"

"Everything except the tiny device that allows us to map your killzone patterns," Rat Man told them. "And no—you, Thomas, Aris, Cassandra and Minho won't be able to do your little trick anymore. We did turn it off temporarily, but now it'll be gone forever. However, you'll have your long-term memory restored and we won't be able to manipulate your minds anymore. It's a package deal, I'm afraid. Take it or leave it."

"That's a no-brainer," Frypan snickered. "Get it? No-brainer?" A couple of Gladers groaned at him.

"One last thing though," Rat Man announced again. There was always one more thing with him. "Something I need to tell you before you regain your memories. It'll be better to hear it from me than to... remember the testing."

"What're you talking about?" Harriet asked.

"Some of you are immune to the Flare," he said, his expression turning grave as he clasped his hands behind his back. "But... some of you aren't. I'm going to go through the list—please do your best to take it calmly."

The group fell silent as they waited for him to continue and Cassandra took a sharp breath, her gaze subconsciously finding Newt on the other side of Thomas.

"Cassandra," Rat Man started and everyone whirled their heads to look at her. She didn't think she was so popular. "Of course, you're half-Immune so it's still up for debate whether you are or not. Only time will tell."

"Shuck yourself," she told him, enunciating the words carefully.

"For an experiment to provide accurate results." He ignored her and went on. "One needs a control group. We did our best to keep the virus from you as long as we could. But it's airborne and highly contagious."

"Just bloody get on with it," Newt said. "We all figured we had the buggin' disease anyway. You're not breaking our hearts."

"Yeah," Sonya added. "Cut the drama and tell us already."

Rat Man cleared his throat. "Okay, then. Most of you are Immune and have helped us gather invaluable data. Only two of you are considered Candidates now, but we'll go into that later. Let's get to the list. The following people are not immune..."

Cassandra held her breath, felt her body tense in anticipation, and the room contracted with palpable tension.

"Newt."

* * *

 **[ author's note ]**

 _cue all the fangirls in the house crying and jdash laughing as he collects our tears for his morning coffee._

 _and no, there is no foreshadowing of teresa betraying cassie in the near future_ — _like i mentioned before, they are the ultimate bros. like sciles._

 _and the winner of minho and cassandra's official ship name... *drum roll* MINDRA!  
which was their first ship name hahaha but micassa was a close second._


	8. ATHAMAS

**ACT III SCENE VIII  
** **ATHAMAS**

* * *

 **SHE FELT HER SOUL AND ESSENCE** , every molecule that constituted as her, escape through a vacuum in space to leave her insides desolate. Newt. Her best friend. He'd been at her side ever since the first day she arrived in the Glade. Even if she had seen the signs early, agonised about them, she still refused to believe it.

"Cass, Tommy, slim yourselves," he told them.

Cassandra let out the painful breath she'd been holding. What was it that they had branded him with? The Glue? It was true; Newt had always been the one holding them together. He was their voice of reason, he knew all the right things to say.

"Newt," she murmured, feeling her waterlines prick with sadness. His name tasted like ash to her lips as she said it; crumbling and evanescent.

"Slim myself?" Thomas turned to him. "That old shank just said you're not immune to the Flare. How could you—"

"I'm not worried about the bloody Flare, man," Newt said with an incongruous grin. "I never thought I'd still be alive at this buggin' point—and living hasn't exactly been so great anyway."

"Dude—" Minho started but cut himself short with an aggrieved expression on his face.

Thomas swallowed and his next words seemed hollow. "If you're cool with slowly going crazy and wanting to eat small children, then I guess we won't cry for you."

"Good that." Newt nodded, the smile quickly disappearing from his face, and the conversation was dropped just like that.

Rat Man went on with the list. Niels. Gemma. Cecilia. Roy. Graham. Amy. Almost two dozen names were called. The non-Immunes suddenly appeared as if they had aged twice as much in the following minutes, most of them breaking down in tears by the news. Cassandra had never been close to any of the other boys that were named but they had never treated her unkindly. She felt bad, wanting to comfort them but knowing that it was beyond hope.

When he was done, Rat Man walked towards the side to touch one of the metallic devices hanging from the ceiling. "This is something we're very proud of here—a feat of scientific and medical engineering. It's called a Retractor, and it will be performing this procedure. It'll be placed on your face—and I promise you'll still look just as pretty when everything is done. Small wires within the device will descend and enter your ear canals. From there they will remove the machinery in your brain."

He paused to survey them. "You will fall into a trancelike state as the nerves repair themselves and your memories return, similar to what some of you went through during what you called the Changing back in the Maze. But not nearly as bad, I promise. Much of that was for the purpose of stimulating brain patterns. We have several more rooms like this one, and a whole team of doctors waiting to get started. You can make your decisions now while I make sure that they're ready."

He then crossed the room to the steel doors behind them and left. There was a brief moment of static silence before everyone broke out into frenzied chatter. Thomas and Newt huddled closer to Cassandra and Minho, with Teresa joining them a second later.

"You shanks know more and remember more than anybody else," Minho said, leaning closer to speak over the frantic conversations around them. "Teresa, I've never made a secret of it—I don't like you but Cassie does. So let's hear what you think."

"We should do it," Teresa said without hesitation. "I think we should. We need our memories back so we can be smart about things. Decide what to do."

"I can see where you're coming from—" Cassandra started but the other girl cut her off.

"I know it must have been hard for you," Teresa said earnestly. "But trust me, it's imperative that we know the truth. There's so much that we don't know, and this entire thing is way bigger than all of us. We need to weigh our pros and cons carefully."

"They locked me up in a room, I doubt I'd know anything useful anyway," Cassandra told her. "I don't want to remember the rest."

"They can manipulate us, play with our shuck brains." Minho pointed out. "How would you even know if they're giving us back our own memories or shoving new ones inside us?"

"I'm willing to risk it," Teresa said resolutely. "Besides, they're also taking out the part that controls us. Sounds legit to me."

"I'm not convinced," Thomas said. "And I'm still not sure whose side you're on. You're not stupid, but you love WICKED."

Teresa sighed in frustration. "I've told you all I can tell you. There's so much that we don't know without our memories."

"What does Aris think?" Newt asked, his eyes flickering to the side to locate the boy. "He was with you guys before you came to the Maze, right?"

"I'll ask him," Teresa said before making her way to him. He was with the girls of Group B, talking furiously with each other. Sonya, Harriet and Eve looked as much convinced as everyone else about the procedure.

"She's not that bad," Frypan commented. Thomas started in surprise before turning to him, not having realised that the boy had walked up behind them.

"I don't trust her." Minho crossed his arms stubbornly.

"Me neither," Newt added. "And I'm the who supposedly has the bloody Flare, so I have more stake in it than anybody. But I'm not falling for one more trick."

"She's looking at the bigger picture, guys," Cassandra told them with a frown. "If I'd been completely clueless about my past, I might want to do it too. But I'm not, and I don't want to remember a thing."

"Let's just hear what she has to say. Here she comes," Thomas said hastily.

Teresa returned to them after a brief conversation with the others. "He's even more sure than us. They're all for it."

"Well, guess I'm not," Newt proclaimed.

Teresa turned to Thomas with an expectant look in her crystal blue eyes, but he merely stared back at her impassively. The girl's face fell when she realised that his mind had already been set and she pursed her lips into a thin line. "Fine," she said before walking away.

It seemed that their little group of five were the only ones who were against the operation. Even the other Gladers had finally caved in to the lure of being able to remember their families and lives again. Thomas turned to them and lowered his voice, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "We'll stick around, play along and act nice. But as soon as we get a chance, we're going to fight our way out of this place."

Almost after he had said that, Rat Man returned through the same steel doors. He brought along with him a group of doctors dressed in green one-piece suits with the word WICKED emblazoned on the front of their chests. Each doctor then presumed to take a place beside one of the beds, examining and tinkering with the masked devices.

"We've already assigned each of you a bed," Rat Man told them, then read out the list of names of those staying in the room they were currently in. Sonya and Aris were part of that group, while the rest of them followed Rat Man down a long empty hallway to another door. Yet again, a second list was read out which included Frypan and Newt this time.

"I'm not doing it," Newt announced. "You said we could choose and that's my bloody decision." He shot his friends a look to hurry up and Cassandra started to fidget her fingers nervously, feeling her palms slick with anxiety.

"That's fine," Rat Man said nonchalantly. "You'll change your mind soon enough. Stay with me until we finish distributing everyone else."

"What about you, Frypan?" Thomas asked.

The boy suddenly looked sheepish. "I... think I'm going to let them do it."

"Are you crazy?" Minho asked as the four of them turned to him in surprise. He'd been against it from the start with them, and now he was bailing.

Frypan shook his head. "I want to remember. Make your own choice; let me make mine."

The Cook took the opportunity to slip into the room with the others, guiltily avoiding their eyes at the same time. Cassandra really hoped that they would see each other again. She, Minho and Thomas were in the last batch along with Teresa and Harriet. So far, Newt had been the only one to refuse the procedure.

"No, thanks," Minho said when Rat Man gestured for them to enter the room. "Appreciate the invitation. You guys have a good time in there." He waved mockingly.

"Don't scream so much." Cassandra joined in.

"I'm not doing it either," Thomas announced, earning an unreadable stare from Rat Man.

"You okay, there, Mr. Rat Man?" Minho asked.

"My name is Assistant Director Janson," he snapped back in irritation. "Learn to show respect for your elders."

Cassandra snorted derisively and Minho crossed his arms. "You quit treating people like animals and maybe I'll consider it," he said. "And why are you goggling at Thomas?"

"Because there are many things to consider," the man said. "But very well. We said you could choose for yourselves, and we'll stand by that."

"Let's see for how long." Cassandra rolled her eyes.

He sighed in exasperation, but looked as if he was used to her rebellious remarks by then. "Everyone come inside and we'll get things started with those willing to participate." Their group exchanged slight nods once his back was turned and they shuffled into the room after the others. The anticipation between them was aching for an escape soon.

Doctors were already standing at the ready next to six beds, the control panel up and running by the side. Thomas sucked in a breath beside Cassandra just then, his eyes set on the doctor on the far left of the room. She turned her head to follow his gaze, frowning when she realised that it was Brenda, and another wave of déjà vu rushed through her. In the next moment, the girl was running towards him and wrapping her arms around his neck in a tight hug.

"Brenda, what are you doing!" Rat Man yelled. "Get back to your post!" She pressed her lips against Thomas' ear and Cassandra saw them move. "Brenda!" Rat Man shouted again.

She finally stepped away with her head hung low. "Sorry," she mumbled out. "I'm just glad to see he made through Phase Three. I forgot myself."

Brenda walked back to her post and turned around to face them blankly. Cassandra was dying to know what that was all about but she couldn't risk asking in front of Rat Man and everybody else. If Minho didn't trust Teresa, she didn't trust Brenda all the more.

"What's she doing here?" Teresa stepped forwards to whisper in Cassandra's ear. She didn't seem pleased by the turn of events either. "I thought she was a Crank."

"She's a lying agent of WICKED," Cassandra whispered back. "Tried to pretend they were just helping us, but I saw right through them."

Teresa smiled at that. "Good. I knew I didn't like her for a reason."

Rat Man then assigned the willing participants to their beds while the four of them hung around the edge of the room to observe. Cassandra wondered when it would be a good time for them to make a dash when Rat Man spoke up. "You four rebels are being watched," he informed. "Don't even think about trying anything. Armed guards are on their way as we speak."

"That's a bunch of klunk," Minho whispered when Rat Man averted his attention from them. "I think we should take our chances, see what happens."

But just as he said that, the door burst open with four men and two women storming through. They were all dressed in military black ensemble, carrying a small arsenal of gear that would be necessary to subdue them. Each guard held a large, bulky weapon that shimmered with shiny metallic grenades fizzling with blue electricity. They were all pointed in their group's direction.

"We waited too bloody long," Newt whispered harshly from the back.

Rat Man walked over towards them and pointed at the weapons. "These are called Launchers. These guards will not hesitate to fire them if any of you cause trouble. The weapons won't kill, but trust me when I say they'll give you the most uncomfortable five minutes of your life."

"I think I've been through worst," Cassandra replied.

"What's going on?" Thomas demanded. "You told us we could make this choice ourselves. Why the sudden army?"

"Because I don't trust you," Rat Man responded before pausing to choose his words carefully. "We hoped you would do things voluntarily once your memories were back. It would just make things easier. But I never said we don't still need you."

"What a surprise," Minho said. "You lied again."

"I haven't lied about a thing," the man said. "You made your decision, now live with the consequences." He pointed at the door. "Guards, escort these rebels to their room, where they can dwell on their mistakes until tomorrow morning's tests. Use whatever force is necessary."

* * *

 **[ author's note ]**

 _this is such a crappy chapter, i'm sorry, my brain just about died editing this. i just wanted to remind everyone what was happening with the procedures, point out cassie supporting teresa and her not trusting brenda (both being important plot points later). just bear with me for one more chapter before cassie's story diverges from thomas' again ;)_


	9. NEREIDS

**ACT III SCENE IX  
** **NEREIDS**

* * *

 **"DON'T MAKE US USE THESE,"** one of the women said, lifting her Launcher to take proper aim. "You have zero room for error. One false move and we pull the trigger."

"I bet I could take you on," Cassandra threatened but Thomas pushed her back.

The four men swung the strap of their weapon over their shoulders before grabbing their arms—one guard each. They pulled the teenagers out of the room with their Launchers still trained on them. Naturally, the Gladers refused to comply so easily.

"You need six armed guards to take care of four scrawny kids like us?" Cassandra drawled as she laughed almost hysterically. "I feel so honoured. I bet we look so scary, huh? What? You not even gonna look me in the eye, big guy?"

"Get your filthy shuck hands off of me, shank!" Minho snapped and thrashed behind her. "I'm gonna shucking kick you where the sun don't shine—hey! Shuck-face! You damn butt ugly shucking shuck shank!"

"I hope your face gets bloody blown off by your own weapon," Newt growled while struggling vainly against his captor's grip. "I hope I'll be the buggin' one to do it. And then I'll laugh."

"Guys, stop it," Thomas groaned from the front. "You're going to get shot, I swear."

They ignored him and continued with their tirade as the guards dragged them back down more empty hallways. Cassandra lost count of how many doors she'd visited in that day alone, but there was one more waiting for them as the guards forced them to a stop. One of the female guards walked forwards to swipe her keycard across the pad by the door, prompting it to unlock. She then pushed it open to reveal a completely normal bedroom with two sets of bunk beds and a kitchenette. A table and chair were pushed against the far corner, a tray of tea things sat on top of it.

"In you go." The guard waved. "We'll have some food brought to you. Be glad we don't starve you for a few days after the way you've been acting. Tests tomorrow, so you better get some sleep tonight."

The four men then shoved the Gladers inside and the door slid close right after, the click of the lock engaging permeating through the air. Thomas took several deep breaths, then stumbled towards the door to pound his fists against it, screaming for someone to let them out.

"Oh, shut up," Cassandra moaned, throwing a packet of biscuits from the kitchenette at his back. "You're givin' me a shuckin' headache."

"Yeah, slim it, Tommy," Newt added. "No one's comin' to bloody tuck you in."

"Newt could do it for you," she snickered.

"Be quiet you," the blonde retorted.

Minho sighed and plopped himself down on a bottom bunk. "Guess we missed our chance," he said. "We'll be old men or dead before your magical moment comes rolling along, Thomas. It's not like they're going to make a big announcement: 'Now would be an excellent time to escape, because we'll be busy for the next ten minutes.' We've gotta take some chances."

"Sorry," Thomas said, deflated. "It just didn't feel right yet. And once they had all those weapons in our faces, it seemed kind of pointless to waste the effort trying anything."

"Yeah, well." Minho kicked his foot up in the air before looking back at him. "So you and Brenda had a nice little reunion."

"Yeah, what'd she say?" Cassandra immediately asked.

"She told me not to trust them." Thomas frowned in consternation. "To only trust her and someone named Chancellor Paige."

"The Chancellor?" She frowned, exchanging perplexed looks around the room. "The Chancellor is the last person I'd ever trust."

"Well, didn't Brenda try to dupe us once before?" Newt asked.

"I don't think we can trust anyone but ourselves anymore," Minho said.

"I used to work for them, too, but you trust me, right?" Thomas pointed out and Cassandra gave him a significant look. "It doesn't mean anything. Maybe she had no choice, maybe she's changed. I don't know."

"Or maybe she's trying to worm her way into your little heart so you'd think she was telling the truth," she argued. "And isn't that the same situation with Teresa? You still don't trust her."

He shook his head, looking like he was done trying to figure things out, then his stomach rumbled. The boy trudged over to the mini fridge and opened it, grabbing some cheese sticks and grapes from its confines. They divided the portions evenly before stuffing the food into their mouths in silence. A while after that, a kinder looking woman dropped by with a trolley of pork chops and potatoes. The Gladers polished that up too, before settling themselves in bed.

Cassandra was lying down on a bottom bunk, her feet propped on Minho's legs as he sat at the foot of the mattress with his back against the wall. Opposite them on the other bunk bed sat Newt, and Thomas faced them in a chair by the table. They hadn't spoken a word to each other since the food came.

Minho was the first to break the silence. "Maybe we should just give in to those shuck-faces. Do what they want. One day we'll all sit around, fat and happy."

Thomas snorted. "Yeah, maybe you and Cass will get married and have kids. Just in time for the world to end in a sea of lunatics."

Cassandra scoffed lightly. "Nah, WICKED's gonna figure out the blueprint and we'll all live happily ever after."

"I was gonna say that," Minho protested.

"That's not even funny," Newt said unhappily and she felt slightly guilty about that. "Even if they did find a cure, you saw it out there in the Scorch. It's gonna be a buggin' long time before the world can ever get back to normal. Even if it can—we'll never see it."

"After everything they've done to us, I just can't believe any of it," Thomas said.

Cassandra pulled up the sleeve of her shirt and showed them the scars criss-crossing her arm. The biggest one on her neck was in plain sight for the entire world to see. "WICKED did that and that's not even the beginning of it. I hate them and I'll never do anything they tell me to."

"Amen," Minho agreed.

"That Janson guy thinks he has it all figured out," Thomas said and it felt weird to hear Rat Man's real name out in the open. "He thinks it all comes down to some sort of greater good. Let the human race kick the bucket, or do awful things and save it. Even the few who _are_ immune probably wouldn't last long in a world where ninety-nine-point-nine percent of people turn into psycho monsters."

"What's your point?" Minho asked.

"My point is that before they swiped my memory, I think I used to buy all that junk. But not anymore."

"Great." Cassandra yawned. "I'm proud of you, Golden Boy."

"Let's not waste our next chance," Newt told them.

"Tomorrow," Minho proclaimed. "Somehow, some way."

"Okay." Thomas nodded and looked at each of them for confirmation. "Somehow, some way."

Newt started to yawn as well. "Then we better quit yapping and get some buggin' sleep."

Cassandra closed her eyes and felt Minho squeeze into the space between her and the wall, his arms wrapping around her snugly. She heard Thomas stand up and climb the opposite bunk bed above Newt, the creak of the springs as the mattress shifted punctuating the air. In mere seconds, she had already fallen asleep.

 _She watched as her father taught Minho how to aim and shoot a slingshot. It was one of the last happy memories that she could remember having after the Sun Flares. It was a fleeting and transient kind of happiness, like the summer breeze that blew through her dark hair. Her mother stood by the entrance of the wooden hut they shared, her eyes crinkled with a wide smile as she watched them_ _fondly._

 _Cassandra picked up a dandelion and blew the fluffy seeds into the air, watching them disperse over the ground. Minho continued to shoot rocks against the trunk of a tree a few feet away, the sound of them bouncing off the bark resounding around her heavily._

 _Thump,_  
 _thump,_  
 _thump._

 _Then she was running, her heart racing in her chest, pushing her muscles to their utmost limits. It was a matter of survival_ — _to stop would mean certain death. The dried brittle branches cut through the upper layer of her skin in thin lines, but she ignored them. Minho was yelling, but she barely understood his words over the sound of her own laboured breaths_ _rasping_ _in her ears._

 _Sharp cries and the beat of footsteps against the hard red ground followed wherever they went, living nightmares chasing after them._ _Their eager hands sought to embed themselves into their flesh, decaying teeth aching to satiate their hunger. On and on they ran, the meaning of safety now an abstract concept and lost to time._

 _Thump,_  
 _thump,_  
 _thump._

 _The past melted into the present and converged with the future. She saw Thomas and Newt standing back to back amidst a barrage of electric arcs. Minho yelling orders as he hunched behind a wooden crate before darting around the side to join his friends. Cassandra knew what she had to do to protect them, cocking her Launcher to set another charge. But before she could send a grenade shooting into the center of an oncoming guard's chest, someone pulled her from the back. She turned around to find Teresa yelling at her to get on the Berg._

 _Behind them, she could hear the metallic humming of thruster engines as the heavy air vehicle ignited to life._ _The spinning of rotor blades created a small hurricane within the confines of the hangar that whipped their hair about their faces._ _Sonya ran forwards from the inside of the cargo hold, slamming her fist against the side while yelling at them to hurry._

Thump,  
thump,  
thump.

The door to the room flew open and Cassandra rolled off the edge of the bed. She let out a cry of pain as she hit the floor before scrambling back up to her feet, gripping the metal frame of the bunk bed for support. The same six guards stormed into the room with their Launchers hot and ready. Rat Man strode in after them, looking pristine and put together as usual.

"Rise and shine, boys and girl," he said obnoxiously. "We've decided to give you your memories back after all. Like it or not."

Cassandra raised her right fist up with her middle finger extended. "Go shuck yourself, asshole."


	10. PROTEUS

**ACT III SCENE X  
PROTEUS**

* * *

 **"YOU NEVER FAIL** to disappoint me, Cassandra," Rat Man said.

"Thank you, I consider it an achievement each time I do," she responded with a smile.

"What the bloody hell is this?" Newt demanded furiously, sitting up in his bed and swinging his feet onto the floor. "No bloody way you're taking us."

Thomas and Minho fumbled out of the bunk beds to join them, the former looking completely dumbfounded. He finally managed to compose himself as he looked around to process what was happening. "You told us we didn't have to," he said accusingly.

"Another lie from WICKED?" Cassandra feigned a gasp. "What a shock!"

"I'm afraid we don't have much of a choice," Janson told them. "The time for lies is over. Nothing's going to work with you four still in the dark. I'm sorry. We need to do this. Newt, of everyone, you will benefit the most from a cure after all."

"I don't care about myself anymore," the blonde spat.

Rat Man seemed to take a different approach with them by softening his stance. "Look, Cassandra, Newt, Minho, Thomas. I understand how you must feel. You've seen some awful things. But the worst part is over. We can't change the past, can't take back what has happened to you and your friends. But wouldn't it be a waste to not complete the blueprint at this point?"

"Can't take it back?" Newt yelled. "That's all you have to say?!"

"Why don't you ask Helenus?" Cassandra asked him icily with a resentful glare. "Ask him what he thinks about your precious blueprint."

"Hey! Watch yourselves!" Two guards stepped forwards and aimed their Launchers carefully. Cassandra was ready to tackle them but Minho's arm caught her around the waist, preventing her from doing so. A tense silence filled the room at their showdown of wills. "We're running out of time," Rat Man snapped. "Now let's go or we'll have a repeat of yesterday. My guards are willing, I assure you."

" _Follow my lead,_ " Minho told her before speaking out loud. She blinked, almost forgetting about the connection they had. "He's right, guys," he said softly. "If we can save you, Newt—and who knows how many others—we'd be shuck idiots to stay in this room a second longer."

"Minho!" Cassandra protested, throwing him a look of outrage. "You can't be serious?!"

He took her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "I can't risk even the slightest chance of losing you too, Cassie." He sent her a mental wink before turning to the others. "Come on. Let's go."

"Has he gone bloody insane?" Newt asked as they watched Minho walk past Rat Man and out of the room.

"Let's just do what they say," Thomas said, apparently getting the hint. "I used to work for them, I couldn't be totally wrong, right?"

He sent them a furtive wink and Newt rolled his eyes while muttering, "Oh, please."

"Shut up, Thomas," Cassandra told him, making herself visibly fume as she stalked after Minho.

"You'll all be heroes when this is all over," Rat Man told them.

Thomas pointed at him. "You, shut up."

Rat Man tried to cover the scandalised look on his face but his acting skills were far inferior to theirs. He then led them through the winding corridors of the facility again, narrating the interior architecture to them at length. Apparently, the reason why the building was so boringly bland without any windows was because of the often harsh weather conditions they had to endure and the bands of roaming Cranks that liked to gatecrash—literally.

Cassandra remembered snippets of her caged youth, the cold winter storm beating against the square glass of the old room she used to share with Minho. There was a pit that she recalled with oddly perfect clarity that they had been forced to go through once. At the end of the pitched black tunnel had been barred caverns that housed dozens of Cranks clawing through the darkness and shrieking for deliverance. It gave her a ghostly chill.

"We had a break in through our outer perimeter that very night in the rainstorm when you folks escaped the Maze, do you remember that?" Rat Man asked.

Cassandra wished she didn't but ever since she had broken through the barrier in her memories before leaving the Scorch, she remembered the battle they had in the Maze. It plagued her sleep with nightmares, and she would wake up in a cold sweat. The shock and trauma had left her body, but the visions continued to haunt her mind.

"No, and I really wish you would just shut your mouth," Newt snapped in irritation and Rat Man fell quiet for the remainder of their walk back to the operation rooms.

"I hope you will all cooperate today." Rat Man stopped to address them. "I expect nothing less."

"Where are the others?" Thomas asked.

"The other subjects have been recovering—"

Newt suddenly launched himself on Rat Man, grabbing him by the front of his suit coat and slamming him against the wall. "Call them subjects again and I'll break your bloody neck!" he screamed.

Two armed guards pulled him away and slammed him into the ground, Launchers pressed against his head. "Get off him!" Cassandra yelled, instinctively throwing herself at the woman that held Newt down. The other guard easily grabbed hold of her arm, twisting and locking it behind her back. She cried out in pain and fell to her knees as the man drove her off balance.

"Cassie!" Minho started but halted when another Launcher was shoved into his face.

"Stop!" Rat Man ordered as he smoothed out his shirt. "Don't disable them. Let's just get this over with."

"Don't call us subjects," Newt said as he was roughly brought back to his feet. "We're not mice trying to find the cheese. And tell your shuck friends to calm down—I wasn't gonna hurt you. Much."

"I can't say the same for myself," Cassandra sneered.

"Newt, Minho, Cass," Thomas called softly. "I think he's right. I think it's time we did what we're supposed to do. We all agreed to it just last night."

Cassandra looked at him with a burning resolution in her dark eyes. She was so ready for this, it even surprised herself exactly how ready she was to fight these shanks. Her muscles were tight as a trigger wire that ignited into action when Thomas swung his elbow back into the face of the guard behind him. Cassandra moved fluidly, ramming the back of her head into the guard that held her. She heard the crack of bone cartilage as she broke the man's nose, before quickly ripping her arm out of his grasp and dropping to the floor. A quick swipe with her leg threw the guard off balance and he fell backwards with a resounding grunt.

Chaos ensued as everybody scuffled with one another. Newt was having a tug of war with a guard over his Launcher, and Minho was punching another with his bare fists. Thomas lunged at a woman who had raised her weapon to take aim, knocking the both of them down to the ground. Cassandra kicked her guard under the chin, grabbing his Launcher and sending a lightning arc soaring through the air at Rat Man. To her great chagrin, one of the guards threw himself in the way of the electric grenade, dropping to the floor in rigid convulsions as sparks ignited from his membranes.

"Oh, whoa," she exclaimed at the extent of damage the weapon caused. Then another guard knocked her off her feet, sending her sprawling on her back against the tiled floor. The Launcher disappeared from her hands, the butt of the stock ramming against the side of her head instead. Constellations burst forth in front of her eyes from the pain and it took all her strength to keep herself from screaming out loud. She scrunched her face up and gritted her teeth, balling her fists so tight that her nails dug into her palms.

"Give me the word!" a woman yelled. "A.D. Janson, give me the word! I'll fry her brain!"

"No!" the man shouted in panic. "Don't harm her! We need her intact!"

Slowly, Cassandra managed to pry her eyes open and focus her vision. Everyone else had been subdued by the guards; their riot had been fleeting.

"What are you people thinking!" Rat Man roared. "You really think four... _children_ can overpower six armed guards?! You kids are supposed to be geniuses, not idiotic... delusional rebels! Maybe the Flare has taken your minds after all!"

"Shut up!" Newt screamed from nearby. "Just shut your—"

His voice became muffled and Cassandra could imagine the guard smothering him into silence. "Don't you dare hurt him, you piece of—" The woman holding her pressed the Launcher hard against the side of her head so that she could feel the indent of its barrel against her skin. "—you piece of klunk. I'm not afraid of you. They've done worse to me, I've gone through worst!"

"Get them up!" Rat Man barked, at the end of his tether. "Get them up now!"

Cassandra was pulled roughly back onto her feet, the Launcher continuously pressed against her skull. She could feel a bruise starting to form on her left cheek. Minho, Newt and Thomas were brought along as well, all weapons pointed in their direction as deterrence. Rat Man continued to berate and scold them as they were forcibly dragged to the operation theatre.

"I was just a kid when they brainwashed me into doing things—into helping," Thomas suddenly recounted.

"I wasn't there in the beginning," Rat Man said, lowering his voice. "But you yourself approved me for this job after the original founders were purged. And you should know, I've never seen someone, child or adult, as driven as you were." He turned around to smile.

"I hope you die in a pit," Cassandra growled.

"Of Cranks," Thomas added.

"Enough!" the man snapped again. "We'll do him first." He gestured to a guard. "Get a nurse down here. Brenda's inside—she's been insisting that she wants to help. Maybe they'll be easier to deal with if she's the technician working with them. Take the others to the waiting room—I'd like to do them one at a time. I need to go check on another matter, so I'll meet you there."

Not Brenda again, Cassandra thought irritably, wondering what on earth the girl could possibly want by always showing up in front of them. The guards holding Thomas started to pull him towards the room. "I won't let you do it!" he screamed hysterically. "There's no way you're putting that thing on my face!"

Another three guards, one of them being the guard that Cassandra had shot earlier, came up to help drag the three other teenagers away. Struggling was rendered futile and she could feel herself losing strength quickly, so she stopped fighting to take in deep calming breaths through her nose. Halfway towards the waiting room, they could hear the loud clicking of heels swiftly approaching them—it reminded her of a Griever without the mechanical whirring.

Dr. Clark rounded the corner up ahead and Cassandra blanched upon seeing her again. The pristine blonde woman sauntered towards them, bringing their entourage to a halt when she stood in front of their way. She pointed at Cassandra and said, "I'll be taking her."

"Like hell you will!" Minho snarled, starting to struggle against his captors again.

"Be quiet!" One of the guards struck him over the head with a Launcher and the boy fell short, grunting in pain.

"Don't hurt him!" Cassandra shouted furiously.

"Come on, hurry up," Clark called impatiently as she swiped her key card on the nearby door to an operating room. "We had to prepare the procedure especially because she's so special."

"What are you going to do to her?!" Newt demanded.

"Nothing untoward, I assure you," the woman replied with a malicious smirk. "In order to restore her memories, we need to replace the chip in her brain that's suppressing the virus. In fact, it's the closest thing we have to a cure right now. Would you like to try it out, Mr. Newton?"

"I'd rather die," he spat back.

"Shame." Clark clicked her fingers. "Get her inside, we're wasting valuable time."

Cassandra struggled vainly and tried to plant her feet firmly on the ground as the guards pulled her towards the door. She screamed and fought with everything she had, Minho and Newt trying to do the same behind her. Two guards pushed her roughly into the room, closing the door with a slam before quickly throwing her against the bed. She glanced upwards and saw the masked device hanging above her, waiting to dig its mechanical tubes into her brain. Anger and fear flared in her chest and she struggled hard with a sudden burst of energy.

"Sedate her!" a guard shouted. They held her down as they secured the bonds around her wrists and ankles.

Clark calmly went over to the counter to pick out a sedative and administer it into a syringe. Cassandra felt her skin bruised and raw from struggling so much, and she was reminded of the times she had spent as a prisoner. The doctor came back a moment later with an injection in hand. "You really will thank us once all this is over, you know," she said. "That is—I'm sure your friends will be grateful for your ultimate sacrifice. Nothing comes without a price, Cassandra."

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she questioned, her voice wavering with a tremor of fear. She felt tears starting to prick her eyes and she swallowed thickly while shaking her head fervently. "How can you live with yourself?"

"You remind me a lot of her," Clark said unexpectedly. "My daughter. She was always so passionate and sincere— _strong_. That didn't save her from the Flare either. I'm starting the procedure now."

"N-no!" Cassandra cried out as the doctor closed the gap between them. The nozzle pressed against the thin skin on the inside of her elbow, Clark's thumb hovering just above the button. She was interrupted by the door splintering open and the woman turned sharply at the intrusion.

Cassandra looked up, her eyes widening in both surprise and elation. Then she winced when an electric blue grenade shot out in their direction, landing in the center of Clark's chest. Her high pitched screams echoed around the room, along with the sound of more Launchers being fired and lightning arcs danced across the air with sizzling grace.

Finally, the electrical discharges dissipated to a mere crackle and Cassandra opened her eyes with a wide grin. Teresa stood at the entrance of the door, the Launcher in her hand smoking with dispensed heat, blue eyes burning with an inner flame. Behind her stood Aris and Sonya wielding their own Launchers, along with the other Gladers and Group B. They were a beautiful sight to behold.

"Come on," Teresa said with a smile. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

 **[ author's note ]**

omg, we're finally here and i'm so excited but also slightly nervous! thank you to everyone who is still reading, please leave a review to let me know what you think! xx


	11. PERSAI

**ACT III SCENE XI  
** **PERSAI**

* * *

 **CASSANDRA LAUGHED IN JUBILATION** as the renegade group filtered into the room. She had never felt such a flood of relief running through her veins, it was like some sort of euphoric drug. Teresa bent down over Clark's unconscious—and slightly singed—form to rummage through her coat while Archie went over to free Cassandra from her bonds. "Good to see your shuck face again," he greeted mischievously.

"Get me outta these things so I can beat your shuck ass," she replied with a wide grin.

"Suddenly, I don't feel so guilty about leaving you and the others anymore," Frypan said as he walked over.

When the last restraint was opened, she launched herself at them with tight hugs. "I didn't think I'd see you guys again!" she exclaimed.

"Nah, you're not getting rid of us so easily," Teresa told her with a smile as she stood up, holding Clark's keycard in her hand. Cassandra embraced her fiercely, thanking all the stars and pagan gods in the whole wide universe for the girl's existence.

She stepped away before starting, then looked around the group searchingly. "Didn't you get Thomas?" she asked.

Teresa shook her head. "We passed one of the rooms earlier and there were only unconscious guards in there. He probably managed to escape and get away. They told us you guys finally changed your minds so we dropped by to get you out. I knew right away that they were lying; you'd never change your mind unless they'd forced you."

"Damn straight." Cassandra nodded before asking, "Where were you going?"

"There's a weapons depot along the route to the hangar," Sonya told her. "We're getting outta this dump."

"We need to get the others first though," Cassandra urged anxiously. "They were being brought to the waiting room, it shouldn't be too far from here."

"Yeah, that's if WICKED hasn't sent an army after us," Harriet said from the doorway. "They'd know we've broken out by now."

"Oh, crap," Eve groaned from the corridor outside. "You just had to jinx us, didn't you, Harriet!"

Shouts erupted from further down the hallway, too far for them to make sense of, but the charging of footsteps grew louder with each passing second. Teresa swore underneath her breath before running out to join the others that were toting weapons in their hands. Cassandra quickly grabbed a Launcher from a fallen guard in the room and rushed out to help. There were about a dozen armed soldiers storming towards them from the entrance and Cassandra had to drop to the floor when a grenade came soaring through her way. It cracked against the granite floor behind her and she whirled around to take aim.

She squeezed the trigger and joined the fray of electrical bombardment, the sizzling blue discharges tore through the air with reckless abandon. Teresa yelled towards Archie, "Take the keycard and open the door on the other end! We need extra weapons now! Everyone move!"

The boy grabbed the card from her hand and raced to the other end of the hallway. There was a loud beep before the door swished open and Archie waved for the unarmed teens to go through first. Frypan had picked up the other Launcher from the room and was throwing electric grenades haphazardly at the guards on the other side. He managed to hit one and the man went down with a cry of pain before convulsing violently on the floor.

"Okay, we're clear!" Archie yelled from the doorway.

"Let's go, let's go!" Harriet shouted, her voice sounding harsh above the crackling energy surrounding them.

They backed away down the corridor, slipping through the door before it shut behind them. Teresa struck the pad on the side with the butt of her Launcher repeatedly, while grunting from the effort, before it broke apart. She tore the circuitry out from the wall and said, "That should slow them down for a while."

"Which way do we go now?" Sonya asked as she looked down both corridors of the intersection in front of them.

"This way," Teresa said smoothly, leading them down the path on the left. "We'll grab some more weapons first before looking for the others."

They turned down a few more corridors on their way to the weapons depot, twisting through the large labyrinth of the facility complex. Cassandra noticed that not everyone had joined the escape, particularly the ones who had been revealed as non-immunes. The reality of their circumstance sunk heavily in the pit of her stomach and suddenly, she felt guilty for being where she was. But if she stayed, WICKED would kill her and that frightened her too. Teresa halted in front of the group and turned around with a perturbed frown.

"What is it?" Cassandra asked.

"I know this hallway," she murmured, taking a few steps forward to a door on the right. Almost as if in a trance, she reached up with the keycard and pressed it against the pad on the side. The door opened with a soft swish and the girl stepped inside without hesitation.

"Teresa, what are you doing?" Harriet hissed.

Curiously, and with some amount of trepidation, Cassandra walked in after her. She was immediately hit with the frigis temperature of the room, which felt all too familiar, and hugged herself as she passed through the narrow walkway into the room. Teresa was standing next to a bed, its occupant blocked from her view on the other side of the room. Cassandra walked over cautiously and gasped out loud when she finally saw who it was.

"Helenus!" she cried out, dropping onto the bed and taking his icy cold hands. The boy merely looked back at her with a vacant expression before smiling languidly.

"They put him on the Bliss when he gets too rowdy," Teresa explained, her voice thick with emotion as tears pricked her eyes. "I remember now... like how Tom looked after you, I was responsible for Helenus. When we first saw each other in the Glade, you couldn't remember me because they didn't want you to remember him."

Cassandra looked at her in surprise. "Is there... anything we could do for him?"

Teresa wiped a tear that had tumbled down her cheek and shook her head. "Only time can tell if he'll get better, but he'll never be normal. We managed to increase his lucidity but his episodes still happen too often, too violent."

"We can't leave him here," Cassandra said. "Teresa, we can't leave him with them."

The other girl looked at her with glistening blue eyes and nodded. "There should be some Bliss in that cupboard, grab a box and help me get him on his feet."

Cassandra hurriedly did as she was instructed, hastily opening the cupboard doors and grabbing a bag from its top shelf. She stuffed as many metal cylinders of the drug treatment as she could fit into the bag before slinging it over her shoulder and moving back to them. Teresa had managed to get Helenus to sit upright on the bed. They placed an arm each over their shoulders and hauled him up to a stand, then pulled him towards the door. Fortunately, he was able to walk fine on his own albeit with some needed guidance.

"Who the heck is that?" Sonya asked in alarm when they emerged from the room.

"Helenus, Subject C2," Cassandra told them. "He's my partner..."

"Minho isn't going to like that," Frypan commented with a snicker.

"Is he, uh... okay?" Harriet asked with a frown as her sharp eyes scrutinised the boy. "He looks like he's high on drugs."

"He's fine," Teresa said shortly, grabbing the boy's hand. "Let's go."

They ran quickly down the remaining corridors before finally reaching the weapons depot. The room was coated in a fine layer of dust, leaving displaced sections on the wall and shelves. Each member of the Gladers and Group B quickly armed themselves, as if they were preparing for battle. Cassandra had grabbed an extra Launcher, strapping it over her back and stuffed her pockets with two pistols. Everyone else had done the same, and they looked like a small army as they filtered back out of the storage room, totting their hefty guns. Teresa decided that it wouldn't be safe to give Helenus a weapon, but they had clipped a smoke grenade to his belt just in case. It was doubtful that he would even think to use it in the state that he was in.

"Alright, what's the plan?" Aris asked, turning to Teresa.

"We need to look for Thomas, Minho and Newt," she responded. "They should be somewhere nearby. We can circle down the corridors leading up here and back down to the operation rooms."

"If we can't find them?" Frypan asked.

"Then we kidnap and interrogate whoever we can find," Sonya said with an adamant resolve in her dark eyes.

"Sounds like a plan," Cassandra said with a nod. "Let's get rolling."

The moment she took a step forward, a shrill alarm started to ring overhead and the lights throughout the entire corridor went out. Everyone gasped in shock and fear, their confused voices melding into one giant question; w _hat was happening?_

"Shuck," Archie said loudly over the bursts of clamour. "Somebody hold my hand."

"Everyone stay on your guard!" Teresa called, and Cassandra could feel her shuffling about as she brought Helenus to the side out of harm's way.

Then from beneath the ringing alarm that surrounded them on all sides, they could hear the sound of power charging. "Get down!" Cassandra yelled, throwing herself to the floor. She felt a couple of people land on her hip and arm before there was a sharp pop. An electric blue grenade soared over their heads and crashed onto the ground behind them with an explosive crackle. She looked up to find shadowy figures of more than two dozen guards down the hallway from them. Then they disappeared after the fizzling charges dissipated, plunging them back into an inky sea of darkness.

"Did you guys see that?" Eve whispered.

"Yup," Harriet replied.

"We're shucked," Frypan said.

"Everyone get into a line and fire when the lights get back on," Teresa told them with a hushed whisper. "Hurry!"

There was a mad scramble as they blindly aligned themselves into a defensive formation. Cassandra knelt on the ground, feeling two bodies pressed against both her sides and held her Launcher up at the ready. The moment the hallway lit up with the dim red hazard lights, they opened fire with merciless vigour.

* * *

 **[ AUTHOR'S NOTE ]**

 _wow ok i'm so sorry for the sucky cliffhanger and super mega late update but i've been having some writer's block for this story ughh i don't know why this escape part is so hard to write omg. shoutout to calypso81 for the wonderful reviews, i loved them so much but i can't reply to you directly so here it is! thank you so much! honestly, i'm one of the rare authors who don't really mind getting update reminders since it kinda spurs me to write haha!_

 _but! helenus being a total badass! and! sonya reuniting with newt! just some things to look forward to in the next few chapters and when they arrive in denver! :D thank you for sticking with me and my sucky update schedule! [insert heart emojis] xx_


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